Unsortable
by Accidental Insults
Summary: With the wizarding world in chaos as the Dark Lord executes his final plans, one girl has trained her entire life learning ancient magic for guardianship. Now she has been charged to protect one of Harry Potter's most iniquitous enemies, Draco Malfoy. But with this job comes challenges that question the very fabric of magical reality and a love that is inevitable from the start.
1. Prologue

Prologue

_I must say that she never wanted me to do this…she only ever wanted for me to know my history. When she told me the first story back when I was barely old enough to understand a fairytale it made me want to hear more and more of a life that was far richer than anything that began with "Once upon a time." Before she knew it, years went by and I knew almost all of their lives. Grandmama was a hero, but she would never let you say that to her. Grandpapa would smile when she walked out of the room and say that she was the one who kept him going, and for that she was the greatest of heroines. He as well would add to my store of stories about their lives._

_It was only after both of them were gone and I was old enough to attempt it that I began to write it down. Their story._

_The story of a girl and a boy. A time of war. A time when all eyes were locked on the Boy Who Lived and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Their struggles tipped the balance in favorable ways that would not be seen unless told. I _have_ to tell their story. If that's selfish, then so be it._

_She was more different than you could imagine. Her courage, her strength, her optimism, and her magic led her through challenges under which the average person would crumple. Her methods were difficult to decipher at first, but as you will see, everything eventually fell into place. Their lives intertwined and their efforts were not in vain._

_Grandmama is my hero and I want for you to know her as I did. I want you to know Astoria Greengrass as she was and the real story behind her life. But we have to go back before the War. Back before Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord, back before my family was good, back when the world was in turmoil and the Chosen One was on the run. Her name was Aeridia Matthews then, though you will never find that name anywhere but here. He was Draco Malfoy, a more troubled soul never found. Their lives were not easy, nor was anyone's during the War._

_So, Reader, will you immerse yourself in the trials and tribulations of an unknown heroine and her love? I can promise you, the ride is not smooth. Though it may begin simply, you will see two children grow up in front of your eyes to see horrors that we, the generations of peace, can only imagine or read in history books. This is your history as much as mine, for if she had not saved him, if she had not come back, then…well, I will let you determine that on your own. For now, let me share with you the story of my family and the cause of their redemption._

_ Vela Aeridia Venatici (nee Malfoy)_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

She had never seen so many people in one place before. The push and pull of the mass of them on the platform forced Aerie Matthews away from her parents further into the teeming amount of excited students and eventually threw her into the side of the red and black steaming train. She rubbed her throbbing shoulder and attempted to push her cart away from the train, but was driven roughly back again.

"Watch where you're walking," she spat at the man who had rudely brushed past her.

He stopped, turned, and proceeded to loom over her. Okay, so he was bigger than she thought. Pulling her shoulders back, she returned the glare inch for inch with a confidence surprising for someone of her short stature.

"Don't get in my way, then," his deep voice thundered, dark hair falling over his eyes. He was not a particularly individual-looking man, but the size and the menacingly dark atmosphere he carried around him like a cloak made him a little more memorable. Aerie instantly hated him. She despised bullies.

"Don't presume you own the path you walk on," she stormed. "I can tell you are used to people folding out of your way. Welcome to a world where some stand up for themselves. I don't tolerate bullies like you. I must ask you to apologize to me; you have upset my cat."

Her cat, Jimmy, was indeed hissing from her cage on top of Aerie's luggage.

The man looked at her incredulously; he had never come across anyone who did not cower away from him. His mind went blank—he was in new territory. He took a step back.

"I—"

"That is no way to treat a lady, Goyle," a slick voice said behind the big man. With a jump, the man—Goyle—leapt to the side where a devastatingly attractive man with white blond hair and an amused smirk on his face stood. "You should apologize to her; that was rather rude of you to shove past her."

Goyle stared in surprise at the handsome boy then quickly turned to Aerie. "Sorry," he muttered.

Aerie raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Goyle groaned and turned a pleading look to the man, who gestured for him to answer. Goyle sighed and said, "For pushing through and accidentally throwing you into the train."

Aerie considered it a moment. "Forgiven. Thank you for apologizing. Now if you both excuse me, I need to get on this train before it departs."

Goyle walked away as fast as possible.

"Hogwarts student?" the man asked, sauntering with her as she struggled to get her luggage on the train. "You transferred here? What are you? Sixth? Seventh? Younger?"

Aerie huffed, rolled her eyes skyward, and whirled on the irritating follower. "Make yourself useful and I might consider answering your questions. If you intend to just stand there like a stalker then I have nothing further to say to you." She blew a stray black curl out of her face and went back to struggling with her belongings. Jimmy hissed at her.

The train whistle blew. "Dammit!" Aerie seethed, giving her bags a final push before they slipped neatly onto the train. The man followed her quietly.

Dropping into the first empty compartment, the man finally lent her some help with stowing her things in the above rack. Aerie immediately went and threw open the window. "'Bye, Mum! 'Bye, Dad!"

There was a nervous couple at the end of the platform waving frantically. And then the train was out of sight. Aerie slumped into the chair and breathed a heady sigh of satisfaction. Then her eye caught her handsome companion. "Thank you," she said reluctantly. "You can sit down, you know. I won't bite your head off since you did end up helping me." She took another deep breath and continued, "I'm Aeridia Matthews, prefer to be called Aerie, transfer from America, seventh year. My family is the only pureblood wizard race from that country that originated in England. Blood type: A positive; I like long walks on the beach, full moons, and a good book." She stuck out her hand at his bewildered expression and asked, "Is that enough information for you?"

The man blinked at her for a moment before he threw back his head and roared. Aerie's eyebrows went up; _yep, definitely more attractive when he smiles_. When he had settled down a little, he reached out and grasped her hand. "Draco Malfoy, seventh year, son of one of the most prominent pureblood families in Great Britain. Blood type: A positive; I prefer intelligent conversations and good glass of chardonnay."

"It's a pleasure." Aerie smiled in response. "I must say, Mr. Malfoy, I find it rather interesting that such a large bully such as Goyle would bow to your wish. What do you have over him? Money? Power? His dad owes your dad, perhaps?"

"Just about all of the above, actually." Malfoy smirked. "He is a close acquaintance of mine. One would almost call us friends. And you, Miss Matthews? Why would you come to Hogwarts in your final year? And may I ask what House you reside? I detect a fair degree of Slytherin in you. A pureblood like yourself should belong there."

"Please call me Aerie. I wanted to come back to England. It was my choice, and I have a few friends here. All of them are in different houses. And I don't know what House I'm in. I will be sorted once we arrive after the first years."

"If I recall correctly, the family in America has gone through several names over the centuries. Did it not start out as Peters?"

Aerie nodded. "You know your old families. It changed to Paul, then to John, then to Luke, and now it is on Matthews. Rather biblical, don't you think?"

"I like it," Malfoy replied. "It's going to make it hard for me to decide what to call you. 'Paulie' has appeal, but then again, so does 'Johnny.' Which do you prefer?"

She laughed and shook her head. "'Aerie' will work just fine. Everyone calls me that."

He smoldered at her, his eyes—a dark grey—hardened prettily. "I'm not everyone."

She swallowed. "Ah. I see. Well, then, when you decide on a name, let me know. I'm sure I will be seeing you around school. I'm probably keeping you from your friends and I need to find my old ones." She stood and stuck out her hand again. "As I said, Mr. Malfoy, it was a pleasure making your acquaintance, and I hope that whatever house I'm placed in, you won't feel the need to call me stranger."

He stood as well and took her hand in his, gripping it firmly. "You will be seeing a fair amount of me, Matthews. And call me Draco."

Aerie nodded. "All right, Draco."

He flashed her another smirk. "Excellent. Now who would be your friends? I probably know them."

Her grin became suddenly impish. "Oh, you do. They don't think very highly of you. Be happy that I think differently."

He looked at her with confusion, their hands still clasped in a shake. "Who are they?"

She shrugged. "A couple of them are redheads, one's a genius, and the other has a famous streak." She smiled at his frozen features, leaned forward and up to reach his ear, and whispered, "I hear you make a rather cute ferret. Don't try and weasel a way out of seeing me."

With a giggle, she walked out of the compartment and down the hall, leaving Draco standing there, shocked, but no less impressed by her wit. Bravery of a Gryffindor and the wiles of a Slytherin; he would be interested to see what became of this.

Aerie wandered through the train, searching in every single compartment for several faces she had not seen in years. Typically, she finally found one, in the _last_ cart of the locomotive.

"Ginny Weasley!" she squealed, causing the redhead to whirl around.

The other girl stared in shock. "Aerie?"

When Aerie nodded to confirm that she was not dreaming, Ginny shrieked and collided with the older girl.

"Bloody hell, Matthews," Ginny chided, pulling away. "You look fantastic. I haven't seen you since, what? Before You-Know-Who finally came back?"

"Nearly." Aerie laughed. "It's good to be here. But I haven't found the Trio. Where's your brother?"

Ginny's grin disappeared. "They're not going to be here this year, 'Dia. They have gone off searching for ways to destroy You-Know-Who. You couldn't have come at a worst time."

"No." Aerie smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I couldn't have come at a better time. We've always known that Hogwarts is the best place to stay safe. And if I've gathered enough from your vague letters, your student army could use a few new tricks I've pick up in America."

Ginny grinned and gave Aerie another hug. Then she remembered her manners. Turning to the others in the compartment, she introduced the other heads of Dumbledore's Army: Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.

"It's wonderful to meet you," Aerie greeted. "But I should be going. I have to change into my robes. Professor McGonagall wants to talk to me as soon as we get to school. I'm to be Sorted after the first years. I had better change."

"We'll see you at Gryffindor table, Aerie," Ginny laughed confidently.

Aerie winked at them and meandered back down the train to her seat. When she slid the door open, she found a sleeping Draco Malfoy draping rather becomingly on one side of the coach. She watched him for a moment; once the snide look was off his face, he truly was one of the most attractive boys she had seen. She flicked her wrist, now that no one was looking, at her suitcase, and it swiftly lifted itself down from the top and popped open. She pulled out her new uniform. With another flick of the wrist, a blanket stretched across the small space to give her privacy and she quickly changed, using the window as a mirror with its dark reflection.

Tilting her head to the side, Aerie pulled the elastic band out of her hair and let the dark, heavy curls tumble over her shoulder, staring at the tendrils critically. She touched up the eye makeup around her black eyes, and smoothed the wrinkles over her new, rather enhancing uniform. Who knew that a pleated skirt and sweater could bring out nature's gifts? She put the blanket away and slowly pulled on her knee highs and Mary Jane's.

"The uniform suits you, Johnny," a drawl complimented suddenly.

Aerie squeaked and clapped a hand her mouth, glaring at Draco. He chuckled at the sound. "Don't scare me like that, Draco. I thought you were still asleep. And why must you call me Johnny? I happen to like Aerie."

"Did you find your friends?" he asked, ignoring her question, slowly getting up and sitting knee to knee with her.

She sighed and nodded. "One of them, anyway. And it's a good thing you woke up, Oh Prince of Darkness, because we will be arriving soon. I would tell you to go and put on your uniform, but I have the feeling you don't really care, do you?"

Draco shrugged. "Not particularly. I will just throw on my robes over this. So what House do you think you will be Sorted?" he asked abruptly.

Now it was Aerie's turn to shrug. "I don't have any preference. I know people in every house. Though I must say that you are the first Slytherin friend I've made in a while. I would be happy anywhere, honestly. And what does it matter anyway?"

He stared at her in surprise. "It matters because that would determine how I will address you in the halls. If you're a Gryffindor I will have to sever all ties, especially since you're friends with The Boy Who Gloats, the Mudblood, and the Weasels. So how can you not have a preference? You must have some idea."

She ignored his jab at her friends and answered his other questions. "None. I would almost prefer not to be Sorted. I don't like to be labeled, you see. We didn't have Houses in America." She did not mention that she did not go to one of the schools. He was not going to be privy to that information.

"The bravery of a Gryffindor, the wiles of a Slytherin, the brains of a Ravenclaw, and now I see that you have the 'friendly neighbor' attitude that is inherent with all Hufflepuffs. You _are_ interesting," he said.

"Thanks, I guess." She laughed, turning and snapping her suitcase shut.

"It's a compliment," Draco confirmed. "Though I think you are wasted on the other Houses."

"My personality is too much for them, I know." Aerie winked at him. "Hogwarts doesn't know what's about to hit it. Expect something big. I'm making an impression."

Draco raised a brow. "You're pulling a prank on the first day? How ambitious."

She scoffed, "Please, Draco, don't think me so petty." She leaned forward and whispered, keeping a coy eye contact with him, "You will find that not everything is as meets the eye with me. Enigmatic doesn't even begin to describe."

Draco seemed dazed for a moment, but a second later his arrogant smirk returned. "We have an onion."

The train at that moment began to slow. Aerie stood and pulled out her wand, a startling blue piece of wood. "How many layers do you think there are, Draco?" She gave him another wink, charmed her trunk to follow her, and left the compartment.

Professor McGonagall smiled at the new student. "I'm glad you understand the circumstances, Miss Matthews," she said, leading them to the Great Hall. "Once you are Sorted, we will make the announcement. I'm sorry that this year is such a terrible year for you to come, but I think you will find yourself to be safe. _Headmaster_ Snape will not let anything happen to you, given the circumstances."

"I never had any doubts, Professor." Aerie smiled in return, stopping at a side door. "I will wait for your signal."

McGonagall patted her shoulder before leaving Aerie to wait in anxiousness. The few minutes she had now were probably the only ones she would have by herself for a while, so Aerie made the most of them. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Aerie ran through what she was supposed to say after the Sorting. And then it was time.

Aerie walked in to the Great Hall, where hundreds of pairs of eyes trained their stares toward her.

"Aeridia Matthews is a transfer seventh year from America and we will give her the best Hogwarts welcome," McGonagall said sternly, gesturing for Aerie to take a seat on the stool for Sorting.

When Aerie sat, the Hat dropped on her head and the world plunged into darkness.

"Well, well, well, Miss Matthews," the Hat hissed in her ear, "I never thought I would see the day that your family would return to England. I must say that your head is a full one. I have not Sorted a person of your age in centuries. This is rather difficult. Very intelligent, I see; perfect for Ravenclaw. A kindness and generosity found in many Hufflepuffs. A sinister and sarcastic streak that makes you suitable for Slytherin. And a bravery parallel to a Gryffindor. Yes, very difficult."

"I would rather not have to choose, please," Aerie whispered. "I don't want to be classified. And being separated from friends isn't good either."

"Most interesting," the Hat stated. The Hall outside was beginning to become restless. Never had the Hat taken this long. "I can see you greatly in Ravenclaw, though."

"Please, don't," Aerie pleaded. "Don't Sort me."

"Hmm…there is potential in you yet," the Hat muttered, then announced, "UNSORTABLE!"

There was a huge gasp as the Sorting Hat was removed from Aerie's head and she looked to McGonagall who was staring at her in amazement. A quick glance at the four large tables confirmed the moment. And then a buzz started as students muttered to one another, staring at her. _No need to get nervous_, she thought. The greasy new headmaster stood slowly, giving Aerie a penetrating glance. She bowed her head discreetly.

"Very intriguing," McGonagall said, throwing the Hall back into silence. "And rather appropriate as well. Students, let me also introduce to you the Head Girl. With Hermione Granger unable to be here this year, Miss Matthews has agreed to fill in the position. Welcome to Hogwarts, Aeridia."

Aerie turned from Headmaster Snape and smiled in pure happiness. "Thank you, Professor." She turned back to the students, took a deep breath, and began her speech:

"…We are spirits of another sort.

I with the morning's love have oft made sport,

And like a forester the groves may tread,

Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red,

Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,

Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams.

But, notwithstanding, haste—make no delay:

We may effect this business yet ere day."

She paused a moment before smiling and continuing, "This year Hogwarts will perform a play by William Shakespeare. Anyone is welcome to audition for the parts. But I must warn you, the four lead roles must be filled by a member from each house. No exceptions."

"Which play is it?" an enthusiastic student asked from the back of the hall.

"A Midsummer Night's Dream." Aerie smiled at him. "That little piece was from Act three, scene two. Auditions will be held at the end of next week. I will be directing. Any student wishing to work on sets, costumes, and/or lighting can talk with me during the week. We will perform in Hogsmeade on November first. I look forward to seeing the auditions." Aerie stepped to the side.

"Thank you, Miss Matthews," McGonagall said, coming forward again. "I must encourage everyone to try and participate. Several of the staff will be handling auditions with Aerie and overseeing the entire event. Now that everything has been addressed, let's eat."

As McGonagall made her way back to her seat at the staff table, Aerie stopped her. "Yes, Miss Matthews?"

"Would you mind terribly if I went ahead to my room, Professor? I can't say that I am very hungry and I would like a few moments to try and collect myself."

The professor smiled. "Of course not, dear. You go ahead. The Heads have their own suite on the third floor on the left hand side. The entrance is a picture of The Tree of Knowledge."

"What is the password, please?"

"_Intellect_."

"Thank you, Professor," Aerie sighed happily and slipped out the side door that she came in and bounced down the hall and up the stairs.

She stopped at the painting and gently touched the canvas. Here was her new home; she wondered how the Head Boy, her new roommate, and she would handle living together and whether they would get along. She had a naturally easy-going persuasion, but it would be easier if he was just fun. She would have to wait and find out how it would all work out.

She said the password, and stepped inside, her breath catching at the beautiful interior. Mahogany and suede blended nicely together in a classic style; the only thing House related was the Hogwarts Crest above the mantle. A large living area with a kitchenette on the left side, Aerie walked past to the hallway that held three doors. The Head Boy's room was on the right; hers was on the left, only one bathroom through the door at the end of the hall and her things already in the closet and her trunks placed at the foot of her bed. This was fantastic. Throwing open her trunk, she pulled out a mini canvas and walked out to the living area again.

"_Finite Reducto_," she said with a wave of her hand. The canvas blew up to a four by six foot painting of a forest scene. Blues and greens comingled with the red and gold of the sun seeping through the trees. Aerie hung it up on a wall as she heard the portrait door open.

"When you said that you would leave an impression, you weren't kidding," Draco's voice said suddenly and could only be described as amazed.

Aerie turned with a smile. "I don't lie, Draco. Not often anyway." She looked at him strangely as he came in and sat on the couch. "What are you doing here?"

Draco smirked and replied, "I live here."

Aerie's face blossomed with the news. "Of course you are. That's wonderful! I have already looked around the place. There is only one bathroom, I'm afraid."

Draco nodded. "I was made aware. Don't worry; it can be divided with a screen." He got up and went to the fridge for some drinks, came back, handed her one, and motioned for her to sit next to him on the couch. She sank into the seat. "How is it that you were not Sorted?" he asked, getting right to the point. "_And_ Head Girl? _And_ director of the new drama program?"

Aerie smiled at his amazement. "Dumbledore once told me that what makes the difference between wizards are the choices we make. I didn't want to be categorized and stereotyped by the House I was in. I asked the Sorting Hat not to place me in any of them."

"I don't understand."

"I didn't think you really would, Draco," she replied. "Being in Slytherin is all you ever truly thought about, I'm sure, knowing your family heritage."

Draco smirked. "You did a background check on me, how sweet."

Aerie shook her head. "That's information from my friends. And anyway, would you really have gotten along with me if was a Gryffindor?"

He was silent for a moment. "Probably not."

"Exactly!" she praised. "I don't want friendships to be ruined because I am in a particular House. Besides, it doesn't matter anyway, since I'm Head Girl and not staying with them. I'm Switzerland."

"That leads to my second question," Draco continued. "How did you get to be Head Girl?"

"My tests for admittance showed the proper competency," she replied and shrugged. "And since Hermione is not going to be here this year, McGonagall thought it would be appropriate."

"And the drama program? I'm rather surprised that Snape is allowing this to happen."

Aerie's smile became impish. "House camaraderie, of course. The teachers are helping, as I said at dinner. McGonagall talked with Snape for me during the summer and was able to get him to agree to it. And you are going to help, by the way. I'm not the only director."

He stared at her. "There is no way that I am working with morons."

"Are you calling me a moron?" She grinned. "And you have no choice. If you weren't Head Boy I wouldn't insist, but that's how life is working out for you." She stretched out her hand and silently summoned the scripts. She caught them and threw one into his lap. Sitting back and taking a sip of her drink, she watched his face as he flipped through the manuscript, noting all of her markings in the margins. She smiled as his face slowly began to animate.

"All right, Johnny," he finally said, looking up at her, "Your ideas are good, I'll admit. And auditions are on Friday next week?"

She nodded. "Sign-up sheets are in the Great Hall. This will be fantastic. Did you know that Hogwarts has an auditorium?"

He shook his head. "McGonagall didn't either until we pulled out the floor plans to find a good place to practice," she said. "It's been forgotten about for over one hundred years. I'm going to take a look at it tonight. You should come with me."

His nose automatically went into the air. "Not if it's been abandoned for a century. There is bound to be more dust than is right to breathe."

She stood and laughed. "No sense of adventure, I see. I will be going at midnight when lights are out so that I might be able to work in quiet. I know a good cleaning spell, Draco. I could protect you from the evil dust bunnies." She snickered.

"You make it sound like I'm afraid of them," he scoffed, standing as well and glaring at her. "I will come with you. If I'm to be a director with you, I need to know about the area I'm dealing with."

Aerie clapped her hands. "Excellent. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to change and walk around the school. I need to know my way around."

"Would you like a tour?" Draco offered, placing his drink on the counter by the sink.

She smiled at him. "If you keep getting any nicer, I'm going to start thinking that the Malfoy my friends have told me about has been cloned with a better personality."

He feigned hurt. "I'm offended; I'm always nice. But I have a reputation to keep. So I would appreciate you not spread around my generous nature."

"Your secret is safe with me. And yes, I would love a tour, Draco. Thank you. And it would be a good thing for the school to see that the Heads are getting along."

"Maybe, maybe not," Draco argued. "They expect me to hate anyone not of Slytherin House, and even then I'm supposed to always be detestable."

She headed to her room. "It's a good thing I don't belong to any House, then. I think I might be the exception to any rule you've created for yourself. I will be out in five minutes."

"I will be ready."

Draco slammed his head against the wall as soon as his bedroom door closed. What was getting into him? He had not been this nice to anyone since…well, since ever. Why did this girl have to show up and tear down everything he had built over the years? He did not bother to change and only removed his house robe from over his black slacks and white button-up, then made his way back out to the living room. She really was not even his type. He usually went for the blonds with porcelain skin and blue eyes and the figure of a model. She was thin, sure, but she had the curves of an hour glass and dark skin, dark hair and dark eyes. Complete opposite of what he looked for, and yet he was attracted to her. He scowled darkly; at least she was a pureblood.

He stood in front of the painting she had hung up when he had come in. It was really detailed and lovely, but he did not recognize the artist. He was gifted in knowing great art. The scrawl on the bottom along the root of the tree was not distinctive. He lightly fingered the brush strokes along the forest path.

"It's the only one that I've ever liked enough to hang," Aerie's voice came behind him.

He turned towards her voice and nearly choked. He thanked his father (one of the only times he would ever do so) for teaching him how to control his facial expressions. I was not what she was wearing (because the style was simple); it was how she wore it. Dark jeans and a blue tank top with metallic silver designs etched across the front, she walked up next to him. And her curves! If he had not noticed yet, he certainly did now. Her hair was down and tapered to her breast line, curls so full he had to resist the urge to grab a handful. He swallowed and turned back to the painting.

"Where did you get it?" he managed to sound normal. "It's not a Monet or anyone familiar."

"I painted it," she said. "I hope you don't mind that I put it up."

Draco turned to her again in shock, unable to keep his face blank. "You never stop surprising me. This is exquisite!"

She blushed and walked to the door. "Thank you. Shall we go?"

"Of course," he replied, finding it rather adorable that she was so prone to embarrassment. He gestured for her to leave the suite first and lead her down the corridor.

It surprised him how easy it was to talk to her. He found himself sharing stories from when he was a child, most of which were not that pleasant, but she listened attentively to him, sharing stories of her own. What surprised him more was the fact that he wanted to share and listen to this girl walking next to him down the hall, and never had he wanted or cared to know about anyone in particular. Yet he found he kept asking questions, trying to draw out more about her and her life. She was willing to talk, which pleased him and they passed the next several hours amiably through the school. Occasionally, Aerie and he would run into someone she knew from her years of visiting. Everyone wanted to say hello and she exclaimed like that moment had been the bright point of her day. She was sunshine in the dark halls and Draco was drawn towards it like a man who had been in a cave all of his life.

The people they came across would be genial and happy towards her, but once they caught sight of Draco, they would close down and quickly leave. Aerie never acted like it affected her; in fact she thought it was funny.

"I'm starting to see this reputation you've built, Draco," she commented and giggled, as a fourth year acquaintance skirted off. "Which is good, because I would hate to only see just one side of you."

Draco's mood shifted slowly after that statement. Though he kept talking and guiding, as the hours grew later and fewer people moved through the halls, he began to regret being so friendly. As soon as she found out what he attempted the spring before, her smile would disappear. Even though he had failed to kill Dumbledore and Snape had done it, Draco was still guilty. He had hated having to do it, and was beyond thrilled that he could not, but Draco knew attempted murder (however unwanted) was a kink in his armor. She would hate him. That fact darkened his mood further. All he wanted to do now was go back to his room and break a few things. There was never a time where he hated his family and heritage more.

"Draco?" Aerie stopped him, it was nearly eleven thirty now and the school had been on quiet hours for more than thirty minutes. "Are you alright? You haven't spoken a word in twenty minutes. Did I say something wrong earlier?"

He forced a smile on his face. "Of course not, Johnny. I don't offend that easily. I've just had a lot on my mind."

The look on her face showed him that she did not believe him, but she let it go to his relief. "If you say so. I want to show you the auditorium now, if you don't mind."

Grateful that she had changed the subject, he followed her as she led him to the dungeons, passed Slughorn's Potions classroom and around a corner he had no idea existed where huge double doors stood made of the darkest wood.

"I thought this was a dead end," he breathed softly.

Aerie grinned, a flash of white teeth in the darkness and pulled out her wand. "Apparently, this auditorium only shows when it wants to be found. _Lumos_."

"Like the Room of Requirement almost," Draco muttered darkly, pushing the doors open.

The darkness was absolute in the room, the light from Aerie's wand only penetrating a foot past the tip. He could not even see her feet. She went to the left.

"Let's find the lights, Draco," she said, her voice echoing vastly. "You go ri—Eeh!" There was a grinding, a thud and Aerie's wand flew from her hand and went out.

"Aeridia!" Draco shouted, lighting his wand and cautiously moving forward.

"_Shit. Hippogriff dick. Son of a bitch. Merde, shies, Zut, maledizione_. Bloody _hell_," she cursed in the darkness as Draco approached her. She was sitting on the dusty floor next to several overturned chairs, a sharp piece sticking out of one of them, covered in blood. Her blood, apparently. She had a huge gash torn through her jeans on her thigh.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked in concern, throwing himself next to her, heedless of his clothes, and hissed at the sight of the cut. "We need to get you to the hospital wing, immediately."

She grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip. "No. I refuse to go. Find my wand and I will summon my healing kit, this is starting to burn."

He stared at her. "Are you insane? I see bone! I am taking you to the infirmary now."

Aerie glared at him, stretched out her hand. "_Accio healing kit_." Draco's eyes narrowed. "I won't let some scratch stop me from having my fun. Get used to it, Malfoy. You're not the only one who can be stubborn. Besides, I'm a very clumsy person. This isn't the worst that's happened to me due to being a klutz."

A whoosh sounded before a small wooden chest settled between the two. Aerie went to reach for it and gasped.

"So, the pain is setting in, is it?" Draco drawled sarcastically. "Serves you right, not listening to me."

"Smug bastard," Aerie muttered, attempting to grab the chest again. Draco pulled it out of reach.

"What do you need from it?"

"Phoenix tears," she snapped and groaned; she was starting to lose a lot of blood as it pooled in a rather large puddle beneath her.

Draco refrained from his rebuttal and grabbed what she needed. Knowing the potency of the tears, he only allowed three drops to touch her skin. It immediately stitched back together.

"Iron tablet and water, please," she instructed next.

He gave them to her; she downed the tablet and coughed. Draco gave her a hand up, checking discreetly for any other damage. She summoned her wand and waved it over the blood on the chair and her pants; it cleared. She touched it to her pants and the tear in the fabric laced back together. He kept the awe from his face; not many people knew the blood-removal spell.

"There, all done," she said and smiled weakly. She turned around and touched a button on the wall. The auditorium lit up. "And I found the lights."

Draco rolled his eyes; stubborn did not begin to describe this girl. "If this happens all the time, how is it that you are able to keep using phoenix tears? That small bottle must have cost a village. And to keep having to replenish it…"

"There is a bottomless spell on it," she said, packing everything away and placing the kit by the door. "It only cost a small village when we bought the spell for it. The bottle was a gift from Professor Dumbledore when I was a child." She came back to stand next to him, and they both surveyed the room.

There was dust everywhere. The stage was of massive proportions and the lighting was run by magic. Pretty advanced for a hundred-year-old auditorium. They both walked forward and up on the stage.

"It's perfect," Aerie breathed. She flicked her wand over the stage and the dust disappeared. She sat down. "I think we should change the venue. What do you say?"

"If we can get this cleared and usable by next week, then sure," Draco replied, sitting with her. They sat in silence.

"You called me Aeridia," she said a few minutes later.

Draco winced slightly. He had hoped she had not heard that. He had hoped that he had not said it; that would mean that he was getting attached. "Yeah, I did. What of it?"

"Nothing." She shrugged casually. "You just haven't called me by name yet, that's all."

So she noticed? She was more observant than he gave her credit for.

"I don't think badly of you, if that's what you're wondering," she continued softly. Draco stiffened. "You became silent on our tour when I said that it was good for me to see the many sides of you. I know about some of them, Draco. How you were ordered to get the Death Eaters into Hogwarts last spring. You were ordered to kill Dumbledore. I know that none of this was anything that you wanted to do. Your mother's life was threatened and you were forced. Just because you did these things, that doesn't make you a bad person, or a Death Eater."

Draco stood swiftly. "Yeah, well, it doesn't make me a good person either, alright?"

Aerie sighed in exasperation and stood as well. "Everyone is a little bit of good and evil. That's what makes us human. I don't think less of you because of it."

"You will eventually," he muttered.

She flicked him in the nose. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"I'm friends with you, am I not?" She ignored his exclamation and continued, "And in case you didn't notice, I was friends with you even _after_ I learned of your doings. Which happened to be before I even met you. Quit acting like such a victim. Help me clean up in here and stop being so depressing. It's ruining my fun."

Draco's heart stirred at the word friend. Never had anyone been truly friends with him. Once they learned of who he was, they usually left. Yet here this girl stood, had the audacity to flick him in the nose and called him a friend. He smiled in relief. "Teach me this spell."

They spent the following hour cleaning and repairing the entire auditorium. When they were done, Aerie stood at the head of the stage, turned with her back to the audience, surveying their work. Draco stood in the aisle of the house, watching her; she was so happy and looked very comfortable up on the stage.

She turned to him. "Have you ever read Shakespeare's plays, Draco?"

Draco smirked, sensing a challenge, and leapt up on stage, coming straight to her side and placing a hand on her cheek. "'How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale? How chance the roses there do fade so fast?'"

Aerie's eyes widened and Draco's smile grew. He had her; he took a step back.

"'Belike for want of rain, which I could well

Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes'," she quote back, one eyebrow raised. She went through with the performance all right. Here she came towards him and placed her hands on his chest. _Will you move?_ her eyes asked laughingly.

Not likely. The glove was thrown and he would go through the scene. "'Ay me!'" He wrapped both arms around her. "'For aught that I could ever read,

Could ever hear by tale or history,

The course of true love never did run smooth;

But, either it was different in blood—'"

"'O cross! Too high to be enthralled to low'."

"'Or else misgraffed in respect of years—'"

"'O spite! Too old to be engaged to young'."

"'Or else it stood upon the choice of friends—'"

"'O hell! To choose love by another's eyes!'"

Draco swept her up bridal style and sat on bench with her in his lap. "'Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,

War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it—

Making it momentany as a sound,

Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, brief as the lightning in the collied night

That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth;

And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'

The jaws of darkness do devour it up:

So quick bright things come to confusion'."

Aerie stood and walked behind him, trailing her hands down his chest, wrapped her arms around him and continued, "'If then true lovers have been ever crossed,

It stands as an edict in destiny:

Then let us teach our trial patience,

Because it is a customary cross,

As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs,

Wishes and tears, poor Fancy's followers'."

He nearly shivered at the last whispered lines in his ears. "'A good persuasion:'" he started, making her to sit next to him, facing the opposite side of the bench and slowly forcing her to slide back as he spoke, "'therefore here me, Hermia:

I have a widow aunt, a dowager

Of great revenue, and she hath no child:

From Athens is her house remote seven leagues:

And she respects me as her only son.

There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee:

And to that place the sharp Athenian law

Cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me then,

Steal forth thy father's house tomorrow night;

And in the wood, a league without the town,

Where I did meet thee once with Helena,

To do observance to a morn of May,

There will I stay for thee'." He smiled seductively at her dazed expression.

She slid forward, forcing him back down the bench, her hooded eyes glinting with dare. "'My good Lysander,

I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow,

By his best arrow with the golden head,

By the simplicity of Venus' doves,

By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,

And by that fire which burned the Carthage queen,

When the false Troyan under sail was seen,

By all the vows that ever men have broke—

In number more than ever women spoke—

In that same place thou hast appointed me,

Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee'."

He looked at her lips, their faces a few inches apart, and was drawn in. She did not move as he slowly came closer. "'Keep promise, love'," he finished.

A clapping of hands pulled the two apart faster than a bullet from a gun. They turned to see Professor McGonagall standing at the back of the hall.

"Professor," Aerie gasped, her breath knocked out of her from the shock. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough, Miss Matthews," she replied. "I must say that the little performance you both gave was exceptional. You put more feeling into it than you do with the rest of things you do here, Mr. Malfoy."

Aerie watched his entire demeanor change in the presence of the Transfiguration professor. He stood gracefully. "Acting doesn't take much skill, Professor," he drawled. "I have to do it every day, pretending I tolerate the student body."

"You seem to get along fairly well with Miss Matthews," she stated wryly, folding her hands in front of her. She did not give him a chance to respond and continued, "I was looking for you both, actually."

Aerie replied before Draco could be snide, "I'm sorry, Professor, I wanted to see the school before classes tomorrow so that I might be familiar with the territory. Draco was kind enough to show me around."

"'Draco', is it?" McGonagall smiled slightly, while Draco stared at the wall. "That _was_ rather kind of him. At any rate, I needed to lay down a few rules with the both of you." She came forward and sat in the front row.

Draco and Aerie sat at the edge of the stage. Draco, none too pleased about it.

"Now, Aerie, I'm aware that you are at least a little familiar with the rules of the Heads, but Draco is not. So let me explain." The professor cleared her throat. "Every year two Heads are determined from those with exceptional grades and academic standing with the school. You both were chosen and given the privilege over all students to take on the responsibility of monitoring other students' progress. You reside in separate quarters to represent a higher social standing, but that does not make you better than the other students."

"Technically, it does," Draco retorted and smirked.

"Watch your mouth, boy," McGonagall snapped, "Or I can just as easily strip your title and move you back into Slytherin House. You may have the power to take points from students, but that does not mean that you can abuse the power. We do not need another Dolores Umbridge at this school when it's already headed by a Death Eater."

"That devil woman?" Aerie asked in surprise. "I've heard about her."

The old woman smiled at Aerie and turned an ironic eye to Draco. "Seems so. Your rooms are not meant for parties and the like. House rules still apply to your suite. Remember, though you both have the power over your classmates, you can still lose points for your House."

"You forget that Johnny doesn't have a House," Draco commented. "Where do her points go and come from? Or does the Golden Girl have exception to these rules, receiving slaps on the wrist and community service for bad behavior and little stars for a job well done?"

"Her points will be evenly distributed betwixt the Houses and also evenly taken. Any other questions?"

Aerie surprisingly raised her hand. "Is there any way that we might be able to get a piano in our suite, Professor? I would like to be able to practice."

McGonagall stood. "I will see what I can come up with. In the meantime, I suggest you both abandon this project for the evening and get some rest. Class schedules will be handed out in the morning. Good night."

"'Night," the two simultaneously responded, watching in silence as she left the auditorium.

Draco glared at the door. "Bossy old bitch," he muttered darkly.

Aerie rounded on him and smacked him in the arm. "Watch your tongue, Draco Malfoy! Professor McGonagall has done nothing to deserve your attitude. She happens to be the one who is doing the most for me in this current situation, so I would appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself." She hopped off the stage and headed towards the door.

Conflicted with a strange feeling of shame, Draco followed her to their suite. She bounced inside with a smile and ran to her room. He barely reached the couch when she ran out again with a bundle of clothes.

"I get the bathroom first," she announced. "You can have it when I'm done. I should be asleep by the time you get out and I'm going to forewarn you now: I am _not_ a morning person."

Draco raised a brow.

"I will be ugly if you like mornings," she clarified. "You'll see." And she turned and walked into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

Draco smirked. This was going to be fun.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He walked out to the living room at seven thirty the next morning, tapping his wand on the coffee pot to start it brewing. Awake without a problem, Draco listened with vindictive glee as his partner struggled through three sets of snooze on her alarm clock. Definitely not a morning person.

They had to make their way together to the Great Hall in a few minutes, and Draco was curious to see if she going to be able to do it.

Her door opened and the sound of dragging could be heard as Aerie appeared. Draco turned with coffee cup in hand to see her slowly head to the bathroom, her clothes in one hand. He struggled to keep a straight face—she was not even awake! The bathroom door closed behind her with a thud and Draco went to sit on the couch…it would be a few minutes.

Ten minutes later, the bathroom door opened again and a transformed Aerie Matthews emerged with a tired smile, fully dressed. Draco saluted her sarcastically.

"I'm rather disappointed, Johnny," he drawled. "You had me believing that I would be greeted with a hex in the morning if I handled it better than you. Ferocity of a kitten, I see."

The scowl that came his way was heated, he had to admit. "The morning is early yet, Master Slytherin. You shouldn't be hit all at once with my bitchy side. There is plenty of time for me to curse you verbally and physically. Don't tempt me."

"Direct that towards the underling idiots out there," he replied, attempting nonchalance though he was impressed by the bitterness in her voice. "We have to go."

"Fuck," she groaned, grabbing her bag. "There has to be a better way to start the day than waking up every morning."

Draco chuckled. "Coffee?"

"Unless it's for pouring into your lap, don't hand me a cup," she muttered darkly, opening the portrait. "Bitter, nasty crap."

"You were serious about mornings," he continued to snicker evilly.

"And you're actually a morning person," she responded. "Expect that some morning time soon you will find yourself hanging from the rafters in your boxers if you continue being cheerful."

"This will be most entertaining," he drawled.

They made their way to the Great Hall for their debut as Head partners. By the time they reached the doors, Aerie had a firmer grip on the better side of her personality and was even saying good morning to students voluntarily. She followed Draco to the Slytherin table.

"Mind if I sit with you and your friends?" she asked softly.

"I don't really care what you do, Paulie," he retorted, catching sight of his entourage Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle.

Goyle saw Aerie walking towards them and sweat immediately broke out over his large face. "I didn't do nothing," he said as soon as the two of them came close.

Draco smiled snidely. "Nothing that requires an apology, obviously, Goyle. Calm down, Matthews is just sitting with us."

Pansy threw Aerie a withering look. "Too good to be Sorted, Head Girl?" she bit. "Don't feel like you have to associate with us _normal_ wizards."

Aerie gave her an equally livid look. "I'm not going to lower myself to the bar that you have just put up, Miss Parkinson. Talk to me when you can be a little more mature rather than instantaneously hostile." She sat down in the seat offered by Draco, who was trying very hard not to laugh at the unpleasant and shocked expression on Pansy's face.

Blaise, on the other hand, had no problem laughing out loud. "Charming," he stated. "Draco, your partner is most interesting." He stood to shake Aerie's hand. "It is wonderful to meet you, Miss Matthews; I am Blaise Zabini."

She leaned across the table to shake his hand and was surprised when he brought it up to brush his lips across the fingers. "Likewise, Blaise. Call me Aerie."

Draco kept his face strictly schooled during this exchange, not allowing the sudden anger he felt as Aerie's hand came in physical contact with Blaise. _Irrational_, he thought, and sent an unmitigated glare towards Professor Slughorn as he passed out schedules.

"What's your schedule, Drakie?" Pansy simpered to his left, latching on to his arm. He had to resist rolling his eyes as she took his schedule out of his hand. "We have three classes together!"

He gently extracted his schedule with a burred, "Delightful." And it was immediately confiscated by Aerie.

"Wow," she said after a second of perusal.

Draco turned away from Pansy, who was desperately trying to keep his attention on her, and looked at Aerie. He arched a brow, waiting for her to continue.

She met his eyes and placed their schedules side-by-side on the table. "Looks like we're in all the same classes."

Blaise glanced slowly between the two of them. "Attached at the hip, then?" He directed his comment towards Draco. Pansy seethed at Draco's side.

"McGonagall's idea of a joke, I'm sure," he replied nonchalantly.

Aerie shrugged. "It doesn't really matter does it? Anyway, I'm going to go say hello to a couple of friends and then help the first years to class. See you in class, Draco." She gulped down a glass of orange juice and took an apple before hopping up and away to the Gryffindor table.

Everyone in the Great Hall stared at her as she plopped down next to Ginny Weasley. Pansy and Blaise turned their accusatory stares at Draco.

"What the bloody hell, Draco?" Pansy hissed. "Why do you even talk to her? She's friends with traitors!"

Though he was fidgeting internally, Draco portrayed nothing but a malicious calm. "She's not in Gryffindor, or any of the other Houses. I don't need who I associate with monitored by others. Besides, she is my roommate; I have to talk with her."

"That's a load of dragon shit," Pansy nearly shrieked. "You have never felt the need to talk with anyone even if you're _required_ to."

"Pansy is right, mate," Blaise interjected. "What's the deal all of a sudden? In this critical time, do you think it wise to even be in the general vicinity of those who oppose the Dark Lord?"

"This is ridiculous," Pansy huffed, getting up. "I'm feeling betrayed, Draco. And unless you are able to make it up to me, I won't speak to you." She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "And I mean for you to make it up to me _privately_." She sauntered off.

_Not likely,_ Draco thought sagely.

"Now that she's gone, I want to say something," Blaise started with a sigh. "Draco, I know you better than you think. You're giving this girl the time of day, so I know that she is of interest to you. Before you deny anything, let me ask a couple of questions. First, is she a pureblood?"

"Yes."

"Good. She's not in Gryffindor, so that's good. Is she smart?"

"She's Head Girl, Blaise; of course she's smart."

"Fair enough. Is she conniving?"

"Exceptionally."

"Then I see no problem, since she is also extremely shaggable. Just do me one favor."

Draco raised a brow. "Which is?"

Blaise mirrored his look. "Keep this low on the radar. Don't let anyone know about it, especially your family. I may be with the Dark Lord, but I don't agree that you can't be happy. If they find out about your interest in her or anything that might develop, she will disappear. I am your friend, after all. And I don't like Parkinson."

Draco blinked in surprise. "Nothing has happened and I'm getting a speech? You're jumping way too far ahead, my friend."

"Just my personal observation."

He chuckled as he got up. "I do appreciate it, mate. So let me make one personal request." He leaned forward. "Don't try to charm her towards your side." He walked away to help his partner.

_I never thought I would like blond hair_, Aerie thought as Draco meandered into Advanced Transfiguration, their first class. She inconspicuously observed his build (well-toned) and simultaneously watched the female reaction in the room, knowing that Draco noticed as well. Every female eye, regardless of House, followed him as he made his way towards the only empty seat in the room—right next to Aerie. The boys just glared with hatred.

"Very interesting," she murmured to him as he sat down. "Even if some of them hate you, they all undressed you with their eyes."

"Even you?" he remarked with a smirk. Aerie mentally cursed as she blushed. "What can I say? They have excellent taste."

"How many of them have you slept with?" she retorted easily. "At least three of the girls in here have looks that say you broke their heart."

Draco donned a hurt look. "Only three? You wound my abilities."

"I'm trying to make you look like a _somewhat _decent person. It seems I'm failing."

"You wound me again, Johnny. I _am_ a decent person. Along with handsome, intelligent, rich, sexy—"

"Conniving, snide, manipulative, and morally unsound."

He tapped her on the nose with his wand. "You didn't deny a single thing I said. You agree that I'm sexy?"

Aerie blinked in bewilderment. "Were my adjectives not contradiction enough? Nowhere did I agree with your statement. I will agree that you can be a decent person. At least, thus far, you have been to me."

Inside, she was getting exceedingly flustered. This was too intimate kind of conversation to have in a classroom full of people, all of whom (she was sure) were trying to listen in on their exchange. Draco Malfoy did not talk this much with people outside of his house. She could feel the death glares coming from the boys at the table behind them. She knew why. Draco's parents were open supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; therefore Draco must be, too. It did not help that Draco put on the air of hating anyone but purebloods; in retrospect the glares were completely justified. But behind it all, Aerie could see a good person; it did not help that she was attracted to him.

Draco was about to answer her comment with something sardonic she was sure when Professor McGonagall walked in and class started.

First day finished, and Draco was completely exhausted. It was hard work to continually scoff and demean every person who walked by you—with just your eyes. Plus, he had to restrain himself multiple times from deducting points from first years just for the confused look on their faces. Aerie jumped in right before a Ravenclaw first year burst into tears.

"The Great Hall is two flights down, darling," she cajoled, directing the young girl back down the hall.

As soon as the student turned the corner, Aerie whirled on Draco.

"Really?" she exclaimed.

Draco stared at her.

"You're Head Boy," she continued without waiting for an answer, "You are _supposed_ to be helping the students getting to their destinations, not glare at them in silence until they cry from fear and confusion!"

"It's not my fault that they can't read a map," he reasoned with a shrug.

"They're eleven years old!" she fumed.

"Old enough."

With a quick glance up and down the corridor and seeing no one, Aerie quickly pushed Draco into the wall. Taken completely by surprise, his response was only to let his jaw drop.

"Since I have your attention, listen up," she started with a nasty smile. "I understand that you feel the need to maintain whatever disgusting reputation you've built over the past six years, but I need you to wizen up and grow up. There are more students hating your guts here than hexes in your repertoire. Hogwarts may be a safe place for children, but it's not for anyone with support for You-Know-Who."

He tried to pick up his jaw to defend himself, but she poked him in the chest. Hard.

"I'm. Not. Done."

His mouth clamped shut.

"If you want to survive this year, _especially_ with all hell breaking loose in the foreseeable future, you need to clean up your act. Just a little bit. Less visibly hostile. I don't want to have to save your arse when some classmate leaves you bleeding in a bathroom."

His mind's eye flew back to the previous spring with a certain spell and slashes and blood and pain. He shivered involuntarily.

Aerie noticed and her eyes softened. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Look. I know you've grown up in hell. You did what you could to protect your mum, but now you have to protect yourself."

He did not say anything.

She sighed with a small smile. "You won't let me, but I'm going to help you."

With a snap under his nose that made him jump, she walked away with a giggle.

The whole experience made him tired. And his world was now completely turned on his axis. What the _bloody_ hell was this girl thinking getting into his personal space and saying that _she_ would protect _him_? What kind of backwards thinking was that?

Skipping dinner, Draco slumped into his living room and collapsed onto the couch. Silence. Blissful silence.

She was frustrating. Assuming. Intrusive. Brave as hell for getting involved with him. And unbelievably kind-hearted for risking her life after two days of knowing him. He was going to have to re-write what he knew of people.

Two weeks later the day of auditions dawned with Aerie bursting through Draco's bedroom door and sweeping the curtains open. Aerie was awake early and happy for the first time and she wanted to share it, but she had not been thinking when she intruded into her roommate's room and now was suffering the consequences (if she could call it suffering).

She watched as he opened his eyes and slowly leaned up on an elbow, letting the sheet fall to his waist to reveal exactly what she had expected when she met him—a highly sculpted torso. His white blond hair, ungroomed and tousled, and eyes dark with the last remnants of sleep made Aerie unintentionally awed.

For thirty straight seconds they stared at each other without a word.

Draco's voice made her jump. "For a Saturday morning, you had better be coming in here to climb in bed with me to go back to sleep."

Her brain function came back to her instantly. "I know that you have better pick-up lines than that, lazy bones. If you want me to fall for you, you have to give me something worth tripping over."

An arched eyebrow caused her internal temperature to rise slightly. He waved a hand to encompass his prone position. "This isn't worth tripping over? Johnny, you will fall indefinitely over this. I like the pajamas."

She cursed mentally, completely forgetting that she had not bothered getting dressed before barging into his room. A short tank and short blue shorts was the ensemble to which he awoke.

"You keep dressing like that and I won't stop trying to convince you to join me."

She shook her head. "Stop it. You need to get up. Auditions are today and you and I need to prepare for them."

Draco grabbed his wand and pointed it at her. With a shriek, Aerie found herself in the air and quickly deposited on his bed. She glared at him.

"That's better," he said, and flopped back on his pillows. "I don't need you hovering in the doorway looking so appetizing, thus I've placed you where you would be most comfortable. Now," he talked over her indignant huff as she tried desperately to control her blush, "I don't see why we need to rush when auditions take place at two this afternoon. It's not even nine."

Aerie cursed silently again. "I guess I'm just excited. Hogwarts hasn't done anything like this in such a long time that I find myself wanting to make this amazing. Did you know that we have over thirty students wanting to work on set design alone?"

"No, I didn't," he replied with feigned little interest. "I'm assuming that the list for character auditions is long?"

Aerie knew her smile was blinding; Draco just stared at her. "Over one hundred students are auditioning! I've recruited the majority of the professors to take a part of the list to help narrow down the prospectives so that you and I can have the final say for the leads."

"I don't care who you pick, Johnny," he drawled, placing his hands behind his head, blowing his hair out of his face.

Aerie felt exasperated. "Don't you have an opinion at all? Or a care?"

He shrugged. "About this? Not really. You kind of dragged me into this, if you recall. I don't see this going well."

"This will be difficult, for sure. But I have high hopes."

Draco sat up quickly. "_That's_ the problem you have. You set your standards too high. Don't blame me when you're disappointed."

Aerie was astounded. Was Draco really this glass-half-empty? She leaned back against the bed post and surveyed him with a carefully calculating look. Though she was in complete awe by the perfectly shaped Apollo body before her, she kept the admiration in check as she evaluated his personality. His selfish disdain for others not of his class was clearly resulting from his upbringing by a controlling father. He had total respect for women such as his mother, and manners that were the embodiment of the perfect gentleman. Yet the two clashed greatly in this boy about to reach adulthood.

The loyalties he had with his father (based on fear) and his mother (based on love) were warring inside every time he talked with Aerie; she could see it. His father would have him hex her into oblivion, or just outright kill her for the attitude and back-talk she gave Draco. His mother would find this amusing, she knew. Deep down, Aerie was sure that Draco was a good person and followed in his mother's footsteps. But the fear was literally beaten in to him.

All of this she could tell just by talking with him. A little bit of intuition that came with the blood in her veins. She could crack him. And she would.

She just needed him to have a little faith in people. And she was going to be that person for him.

She smiled. "I'm not letting you ruin my fun, Draco Malfoy."

He snorted. "I know that I couldn't."

"When I _do_ succeed, try not to look too astonished."

After three hours of auditions, Aerie was starting to get discouraged. Though she would not let it show on her face, she felt that the turnout was pretty dismal. Draco was having no problem expressing his glee at the terrible performances.

After the sixtieth student walked out, she finally turned to him in frustration. "I don't need you muttering '_I told you so_' in my ear all afternoon."

"I could do better at this with a lisp," he rejoined and smirked from his slouch.

"Pity that you can't audition, isn't it?" she murmured. "NEXT!"

A sixth year Hufflepuff walked in. "I'm Mark Kinnety, and I'm auditioning for the part of Lysander."

"So is every other male," Draco sighed. Aerie kicked him under the table.

"Grow up," she hissed, then said to Mark, "Go ahead, Mark."

The unremarkable boy bowed his head, and when he looked up, he transformed. Looking right at Aerie, he allowed passion to fill his eyes and voice, his stance regal and confident.

"'O take the sense, sweet, of my innocence!

Love takes the meaning in love's conference.

I mean that my heart unto yours is knit,

So that but one heart we can make of it:

Two bosoms interchained with an oath,

So then two bosoms and a single troth.

Then by your side no bed-room me deny,

For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie'."

For once, Draco was silent. And the only thing Aerie felt was moved. She sat spellbound as Mark bowed his head again and returned to the unassuming student he was before.

Aerie snapped out of it with a dig of Draco's elbow in her side. "Thank you, Mark. That was truly refreshing. We will keep you posted."

She beamed at Draco as Mark walked out. "That is the caliber we're looking for."

And after that, the talent poured in. The next three performances by a Slytherin, a Ravenclaw, and a Gryffindor secured the roles of Demetrius, Helena, and Hermia, respectively. The role of Puck was given to a spritely third year who wowed Aerie with her energy. By the end of the evening, Draco had even given his opinion about the roles of Oberon and Titania.

"All around, it was a wonderful group." Aerie bounced happily down the hall next to Draco on their way back to their rooms. "I really appreciate the little bit of feedback you gave me at the end. I'm happy to see that you cared enough."

Draco scowled at her with little vehemence. "Don't think this will become a regular thing, Matthews."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Small steps, I know. I will get you to lighten up with me. This is going to be fun!"

"You never quit, do you?" Draco muttered darkly.

Aerie whirled on the spot and jumped in his face. "That, my dear Shakespeare, is the point. Why quit? Where is the fun? I don't intend to allow anything to spoil this vision. And I'm bound and determined to make you enjoy yourself."

She turned again, giggled the password to their room, and leapt inside. Draco followed and flopped on the couch. "You are too cheerful. I don't like that in a woman."

She froze by the fridge. Though she did not want to admit it, that comment stung. She shook herself and turned to look at him. The back of his blonde head poked over the back of the couch and she smirked as an idea formed. It was time to catch him off guard. He did not like cheerful? Then she would give him something to drool about. "Oh, really?" she breathed, straightening her posture.

He heard the change in her tone, and twisted his head to glance at her. With a quick pull, her hair tie was out and her hair fell in curls past her shoulders. She cocked her head seductively, biting her lower lip.

"Would you rather I was quieter? Coy?" she asked huskily.

She slowly sashayed toward him, the perfect model walk to his frozen body on the couch. Walking around to the front, she placed a knee between his legs and leaned forward, eyes locked with his shocked ones. She got her lips within inches of his.

"You want me to be naughty, forward, and provocative?"

She never touched him in this whole performance. Just as his hands were reaching forward to grab her, she pulled away with a laugh and skipped down the hall. "I can be anything, however, I like being myself. Sorry that I seem too much for you to handle, but I have no need to impress you, Draco Malfoy."

She giggled at his shell-shocked stare as she closed her bedroom door.

The second it was shut, Aerie collapsed on her bed. What the hell was she doing? Why did she feel the need to show off and why did his little comment bother her? These two weeks had driven her crazy. He may not be evil, but he certainly made it difficult to get along with him. And he was unbelievably gorgeous! She may have said otherwise, but she really did want to impress him. Which was stupid, she kept telling herself, when all she really wanted to do was be friends with him. Right?

She needed to focus on the completion of the auditions. The cast list was posted in front of the Great Hall and rehearsals would start on Monday. That gave her and Draco tomorrow to get everything ready, like the prop list and costume designs. That is, if Draco would help her at all tomorrow.

Too frustrated to think about that anymore, Aerie threw on her pajamas and grabbed a book. Just as she was getting settled in bed to work on some homework, there was a decisive knock at her door.

She sighed. "Come in."

Draco hesitantly peeked in, never having been permitted in her room before. Taking a moment to absorb the pictures on the walls and the clothes strewn across the floor, he turned mercury eyes to Aerie reclining on the bed.

"You're a fairly untidy woman," he stated.

She narrowed her eyes. "Is that what you came in here to say?"

"No," he scoffed, nose in the air. "I came here to tell you that the piano you requested is here and in the common room if you wanted to see it."

Aerie blinked at him blankly for a moment. With a sudden squeal that made him jump, she shot out of bed and ran past him, skidding to a stop by a deep mahogany baby grand. Tears nearly spilled at the beauty of it.

"Don't get so emotional," he said softly right behind her.

"I may not be very good, Draco," she said with bliss, "but I love to play and want this chance to be able to continue practicing while at school."

"How long have you played?" he inquired as she sat down and gently touched the keys.

She beamed at him. "Only for three years. Never had the chance to practice at school, so I thought that maybe being Head Girl would provide some allowances." She played a chord softly. "Do you play?"

He shrugged. "My parents thought it suitable."

"So that's a yes. How long?"

"Twelve years."

She slipped in her chord progression. "You've been playing since you were five? That's impressive, Draco!" She got up from the seat and pushed him onto it. "Play something. Please."

"I'm a little rusty," he complained, plunking out a few notes.

"I won't judge," she reassured over his shoulder.

So he began playing. His technique was flawless and the notes pure. Never had Aerie heard the piano played with such feeling. He may have been a prick, but the music was played from the heart. Lilting with sudden changes to the minor key then back again, Aerie had not heard the piece before. For five minutes, Draco flowed through effortlessly on the wings of the melody, his eyes closed.

Aerie watched in wonder, tears unabashedly spilling down her face. She had always wanted to play that way. Without care. With love.

When he finished, Draco stared at the keyboard a moment. "It could have been better."

Aerie choked, causing him to turn to her standing behind him. He looked at her in confusion, hand reaching up to catch a tear on his finger. "You're crying?"

Her eyes were wide, she knew. "Do you realize what a gift you have? The beauty with which you play? That was by far the most exquisite performance I have heard. And I don't even know what it was called."

To her surprise, a blush faintly dusted his cheeks. "Moonlight Serenade. My mother taught me," he admitted.

"My mother taught me something as well, and I think you should hear it," Aerie said, sitting down next to him on the bench. "She said that you can tell a lot about a person and their capacity for love when you listen to them play. She said that love is like playing an instrument; first you learn by the rules, then you learn to throw it all away and play from the heart. Draco, you played from the heart. And I am one hundred percent convinced that you are a good person. With some flaws. But your ability to love like that speaks volumes about the man you really are."

They stared at each other for a moment, Aerie wrapped up in the warmth of his gray eyes. They had lost all of their hard chrome shell and vulnerably held on to hers. Not wanting this to get too far (she knew she would kiss him if they kept like this any longer), she stood swiftly. "My skills pale in comparison."

Draco cleared his throat and stood as well. "Three years is not nearly as long, no. But you can't deny talent when it's there. I'm sure you're good."

She smiled at him breathlessly. "You just keep proving my point."

He suddenly grinned impishly, leaning close, forcing her to back into the piano. "Falling in love with me yet, Johnny?"

She laughed to hide her flustered brain. "Keep trying, mate."

"What if I _were_ to try something?" he whispered huskily in a similar tone from hers earlier, "to make it harder for you?"

Placing a hand on his chest, she gently pushed him away. "Make it worth my while, Lysander."

He backed up easily with a laugh, allowing Aerie to catch her breath discreetly. "How is that? You know you want to kiss me."

She snorted. "Sure, okay. If you say so. Then how about this? You want me to think you're worth falling in love with; make me believe it. If you can get one first year—just one, and not of your own house—to come to me and tell me that you're a decent person. With sincerity, not fear, then I will…" She pondered for a moment.

"Kiss me," he supplied. "You will kiss me."

Her heart froze. "Kiss you?" she managed to say.

He nodded, his tone nonchalant. "It can be in private. But not a quick peck. I want a real, Aerie kiss."

She squared her shoulders. "Deal. But if you can't, you have to compliment every person in the drama department at least once."

He paled. "You're on." He stuck out his hand.

She took it. He pulled her close. "Get ready to pucker up, Hermia." And he sauntered to his room, leaving Aerie to wonder what on earth she had just gotten herself into.

The next morning, Aerie woke up with a smile and crossed to her desk. Pulling out a piece of parchment, she quickly scrawled a note:

_Operation well in progress. Interest established._

Without signing it, she sealed the letter, threw on some clothes, and left her room to head to the Owlery. Passing Draco at the coffee pot, she chirped a good morning before walking out the door.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Rehearsals went under way the next Tuesday and would be every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday night until the performance. Draco only provided assistance when he and Aerie were alone in their dorm, rarely saying anything during rehearsals. Her frustration with that gave him more reason to instigate her. A few weeks into the rehearsals, though, Draco's carefully cultivated indifference snapped. Aerie had been directing from next to Mark Kinnety and Lydia MacAbee, a fifth year Gryffindor playing Hermia, and she was not being able to convey the romantic vision in her head since both actors were looking at her with confusion. "I need you to be in love with each other!" she was saying. "Mark, I know you can do better than this. Just make it so that your fourth wall is Lydia. Look in her eyes and express that love you showed me at auditions."

She let them try a few lines again, but stopped them within a few words. "Come on, guys," she sighed exasperatedly.

Draco had enough. He hopped up on stage next to Aerie. "The amount of passion you portray wouldn't even turn on a flobberworm," he said to Mark with disdain. "You are supposed to be the lover of Hermia, and thus should know how to treat her. Observe."

He grabbed Aerie around the waist tightly and brought her flush against his body, all the while keeping his tone teaching. Aerie was frozen. He slowly trailed his fingers up the side of her body. "Lysander wants nothing more than to have Hermia as his own, so the audience needs to see it. You don't just say your lines, you caress them over her." He followed the line of Aerie's jaw with fascination. "Drink in every ounce of her, have her melt in the passion of even the lightest touch."

He allowed his other hand to slide up her back to bring her closer, his eyes locked with hers and the entire auditorium silent. "Everyone needs to feel the tension you invoke with every movement."

Draco was beginning to swim in his own words and the feel of Aerie pressed against him, her eyes dark and staring right at him. With a quick movement, they were apart. The tension snapped. "You do that, Kinnety, and I might even say you have talent. MacAbee won't even need to act if you do it properly, she'll just react."

The students were in awe. "You, um, really seem to have experience with this," Mark stuttered, looking between Draco and Aerie.

Keeping his eyes carefully on Mark, Draco replied, "I know how to act." And he went back to his seat, Aerie slowly sitting next to him, her face burning. "Begin the scene again."

"What was _that_?" Aerie hissed as soon as they were both in their chairs.

Draco smirked in the darkness and placed a hand on her knee. She jumped, but did not move his hand away. "That was the first step at payback for your seductress act a few days ago," he whispered, idly observing the actors onstage. He could practically feel her jaw drop and snickered. What he was not anticipating was her following reaction. She shifted quickly, draping an arm around his shoulders and leaning close to his ear.

"Don't move," she breathed in his ear, gently pushing his hair out of his face with a finger. "No one can see us back here." Indeed, the darkness at the back of the auditorium where they were seated was sufficiently obscuring. She trailed the finger down his face, tracing his lips, and he breathed in sharply. His nerve endings followed her teasing digit across his neck and along his shoulder before she fanned out her hand and felt down his chest. He was sure she could feel his heart race. Her other hand crept into his hair and slowly massaged his scalp. "You already realize what I can do, Draco. Want me to continue? Naughty little things?" Her lips brushed his ear lobe, teeth following in a light graze.

It took every ounce of willpower he had to grab her hand to stop her. "You, my dear, are very tempting." He watched her sit back with a satisfied smirk on her face. "I have no problem admitting that you can be quite sexy when you want to be. I'm afraid that I will not be the first to give in to this temptation."

Her smile glowed in the dark. "Draco Malfoy, you were putty in my _very_ capable hands. If Pansy Parkinson could see you right now, she would hex you into oblivion for lusting after some other woman."

Draco groaned inwardly as Aerie walked back to the stage, where the actors were still working through the scene. "Thank you, everyone! That's it for the night. Same time on Thursday."

Students packed up their things and began to file out of the auditorium. Draco stayed in his seat. What the hell was he thinking? Again and again and again this question kept popping into his head after an exchange with this woman. His father, with a cringe at the thought, would lock him up like he did before for this behavior and have no problem disposing of Aerie. He was being openly respectable to someone not of his class. Parkinson was probably reporting all of this to his father at the moment. Not like his father had had the decency to contact _him_ about anything since the Dumbledore fiasco. Though he was completely outraged with Lucius, Draco knew that nothing would come of it except certain death at the defiance.

The thought of having to get close again to Parkinson made his stomach roll, and he could not think of a single thing to do besides sleep with her to keep her mouth closed about his partner and her existence.

So wrapped up in his mental process was he that he jumped at the hand on his shoulder.

"Welcome back to earth, Mr. Malfoy," Aerie giggled. "Flying with the hippogriffs?"

They were the last ones there.

"My soul flies with thestrals, Paulie," he toned.

She rolled her eye. "And we're back to Master Slytherin, friend of no one. Honestly, Draco, it's all right for you to be a normal person with me. I won't tell anyone."

He glared. "I know that. It's what others will see."

She blinked at his response, then stared at him intently. "You're afraid that Parkinson is going to tell your father."

Again shocked at her observation skills, he nodded. "I can't let her. My reputation needs to be maintained."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door. She dropped it as soon as they left, for which he was grateful. Neither spoke until they got back to their rooms.

"Your father would kill you, wouldn't he?" she asked as soon as privacy was determined.

Finally accepting that she was smarter than he gave her credit for, he conceded once again.

"And me as well," she stated as if she were talking about nothing more than tomorrow's dinner menu instead of death. "And you feel that unless you appease her—meaning sleep with her—then she's going to run her mouth."

"Yes," he sighed. "How, in the name of Merlin, are you able to determine all of this so easily?"

Aerie shrugged, though Draco thought she looked a little sheepish. "I have an idea, if you're not opposed to being a little devious and horrible."

"Me?" he asked incredulously, dripping in sarcasm. "Why on earth would I ever be like that?"

Aerie laughed, Draco smiled. "Then here is what you'll do."

"Merlin, Malfoy! Stop messing with me," Aerie seethed just loud enough for Parkinson to hear halfway down the table. She could almost see the girl's radar pop up as her head snapped to them.

"I'm so tired of it," she continued, pretending to glare at Draco as he kept a perfect sneer on his lovely face. "I'm not going to continue to play nice when you so obviously don't care."

"You're right," he growled, Aerie mentally trembled at the sound of it. "I don't care. I put up with you in public because it's proper, but that doesn't mean I have to keep up appearances all the time."

"Fine then." She picked up her books and got up from the table.

Blaise gave her a confused glance, so she winked at him. He immediately got up and followed her.

"Pansy is going to sit with him right at this very moment," he stated quietly as they walked out of the Great Hall.

"And no one else noticed mine and Draco's exchange?" she asked.

"Crabbe and Goyle are too dense to notice anything, and no one else really cares about you two when you talk, except for Pansy."

"Excellent," she breathed with a smile. Looking up at him, she gently touched his sleeve. "I hope you don't mind your part in this. Draco really needs your help making this work so that he doesn't get in trouble. Though he doesn't know you're helping."

Blaise chuckled. "Of course he doesn't know. Draco doesn't want anyone's help."  
"Our argument doesn't even seem like one, but I thought it would be enough for Pansy to latch onto."

"She will take any crumb she will get from Draco. But are you sure this will work, Aerie?"

"Never a worry, Blaise. I'm a master at memory charms. I once made my cat think that whenever she heard the number ten, catnip would appear in front of her. I made it last for two years before I felt so bad about it that I lifted the spell. There was never any degradation of the potency of magic. I know my stuff."

"Then I leave it to you," he said, stopping them both in front of her portrait hole. "Don't feel the need to alter my memory, Aerie. I wouldn't tell Lucius anything about his son because I can't stand him. My parents may not be great, but they are nothing in comparison."

Aerie believed him. He reeked of honesty and loyalty for his friend. She did not even have to try and pry into him for the truth. "I know that, Blaise. He did well, choosing you as a friend."

He smiled at her, lifting her hand to his lips. "You are good for him, Aerie. I know you have your own secrets, but you are what he needs in this world."

She inwardly cringed. Soared and cringed simultaneously. She did not let it show as she opened the portrait hole. "Thank you."

Draco came in fifteen minutes later, looking perfectly disgusted. Aerie laughed, making him turn to see her at the table. "It's done," he sighed, dropping his bag and sitting on the corner next to her. "It didn't take much for me to convince her to meet with me. Astronomy Tower, just as you requested. Are you sure you don't want me there?"

She nodded, resting her cheek on her hand as she looked up at him. He was looking a little more disheveled of late, she observed, with his hair falling in his eyes. "I can't make her believe the memory I'm giving her if there is someone there to provide a contradiction with their presence."

She went back to the essay she was working on for Herbology. Finishing off the sentence she had not completed and still finding that Draco had not moved, she glanced up at him to find him staring. His slate eyes softened slightly at contact. She gulped discreetly.

"Thank you, Aeridia," he said.

The purpose in her heart solidified. "You're welcome."

Aerie sat in the darkest corner of the Astronomy Tower, waiting as Parkinson settled herself on the bed that she had conjured. It was highly amusing, watching this girl primp herself as becomingly as possible for a man who did not have any inclination of showing up. Even when she did not like Parkinson at all, Aerie still felt guilty with what she was about to do.

That did not stop her from completing the mission.

Waving a hand, a chair appeared beside the bed. Parkinson's face lit up at the sight. "I knew you would already be here, Drakie," she sighed.

Aerie stepped out of the corner. "I'm not Draco. And he is not coming."

Parkinson's features contorted with anger. "_You_. What have you done with Draco?"

"Nothing," Aerie replied with a shrug, twisting her hand. With a shriek, Pansy flew into the chair, bonds quickly wrapping her tightly to it. "But you and I have some talking to do."

"I have nothing to say to you, _bitch_," Pansy spat, struggling and accomplishing nothing.

Aerie waved her hand again, silencing the room and brought another chair to face the bound girl. "Unfortunately for you, you don't have a choice. My objective is to get you to tell me what your plans are for Draco with regards to the Dark Lord. We can make this easy, or you can make this difficult. Either way, you are not leaving until I get the information I have come for."

Pansy's pug-like face closed further. "Are you some kind of spy?"

"No," Aerie replied. "I'm doing this at the request of Dumbledore before he died and Draco's mother. I'm here to protect Draco."

"How is that possible? You can't be any older than us. You can't know more than the Dark Lord has taught us!"

"I know different things than your master would never even think to be possible. Dumbledore has been training me in America for years to be what I am now."

Pansy snickered. "Good thing that old crotch is dead."

Aerie flicked her fingers. Pansy screamed in pain as blood rushed down her cheek from a cut Aerie had just inflicted. "Dumbledore was a great man."

"How the bloody hell do you do magic without a wand?" the girl panted.

Another twist of the wrist and the wound vanished. The girl felt it and stared at Aerie is undisguised fear. "Like I said, I was trained. That was illusion magic. No cut actually appeared; you only think it did because I planted the pain in your head and the illusion on your face. But now it's time for me to ask the questions. _Veritas!_"

With a grunt of pain, Pansy choked. The spell Aerie had implemented acted like a truth serum, with added pain. It literally forced the truth from the person with whatever question the user asked.

"Let's make sure this works," Aerie started casually, lounging back in her chair. "What is your name?"

The girl snapped her mouth shut and moaned.

"If you keep fighting, it will only get worse. Name?"

"Pansy Parkinson," she gasped out, followed by a whimper.

"Good. Why did you come here tonight?"

"I was meeting with Draco. He and I were going to finally have sex like he has been promising me."

Aerie raised a brow. "You haven't slept together yet?"

Pansy tried not to answer, horrified that she was doing this. "No," she whispered a moment later.

"Why are you always following him around?"

This time, Pansy really gave a fight. Tearing streaming down her face at the pain in her chest and head from the spell, Aerie bided her time.

"I was told to."

Aerie smiled. "That wasn't so hard, was it? Who told you to and what were you supposed to be watching?"

"Lucius was having me keep an eye on Draco's behavior here at school to make sure that he was behaving like he had been commanded. I was giving weekly reports at the Malfoy Manor, directly to Lucius. He will not like what I have to say about this week. Better watch your back. Lucius is getting angry with Draco. You won't be living much longer, though you're a pureblood."

"Are you getting paid for this, Pansy? You can't be doing this out of the goodness of your heart."

Pansy actually blushed at this question. "No, I'm not getting paid."

"Then what are you getting?"

She exploded, "What Draco hasn't been giving me! I follow him around, waiting on his every whim, and he treats me with the same disdain as everyone else. Now you have come along and suddenly he is human! He _smiles_ at you. _Really_ smiles! I have never gotten that. Lucius understands me. Says Draco is just like him. That it takes time to break his son's shell. I can do it, Lucius tells me. I could do it with _him_."

Aerie had a sick feeling in her stomach. "What does Lucius give you?"

"Sex," Pansy snickered, "Glorious sex that his son hasn't even had! You know that for all he talks, Draco has never slept with anyone. I plan on being that first person. Tonight was to be the night! Lucius was right when he said that I needed to learn a few things about seducing. So he taught them to me. To use so that I would have control over Draco. Draco will be _mine_. Lucius said so. _Mine!_"

"Dear God," Aerie muttered in horror. This was too much. Lucius was taking control over a minor to keep tabs on his son. "Listen to me, Parkinson."

"I don't have to listen to anything you say, Matthews," she snapped.

"I've had enough of this tonight." She squeezed her hand and ended the truth spell. "I can't help you since you have been so thoroughly corrupted already. I'm just going to do what I can for Draco. _Obliviate!"_

Pansy's manic face slacked into a trance.

Her voice shaking, Aerie laid out the plan she had concocted with Draco. "You came here tonight, meeting with Draco to finally consummate your relationship. You both decided to keep this between you because Draco's reputation depends on him being a ladies' man. But you know different. He made all of your wildest dreams come true since he is as good in bed as he boasts." Here, Aerie grimaced, now having to lay out the details. Draco had had a huge laugh over this earlier that day. "You like to play rough, so you tie him to the bed, taking pleasure in slowly torturing every bit of his body before you ride him. What you didn't expect was for him to break free of his bonds and take control over you. He makes you orgasm twice before he is complete. Leaving you on the bed, he pulls his clothes back on, promises you another night such as this in the future. You lay there a few minutes longer before heading back down to your own room."

The look on Pansy's face was too happy and blissful.

"You know that you have to keep this to yourself. You will tell Lucius all that has happened, but will reassure him that he is better than his son. You will not remember ever seeing me; you will continue to hate me. But you will keep your sexcapades to yourself. Understood?"

Pansy nodded dreamily. Aerie removed the binding with a flick and Pansy climbed on the bed still in the trance.

Aerie walked away without a backwards glance, knowing she did well.

She walked into the suite with a sigh. "You were gone an awfully long time," a deep voice said inches away.

She jumped and whirled to see Draco sitting on the floor by the door, looking for the entire world like he did this often; which he might, for all Aerie knew. But the designer jeans did not appear to be meant for that kind of lounging. He got up in one graceful movement and she unconsciously backed into the door. Putting a smile on her face, she lightly punched his arm. "Miss me too much?"

He did not answer, just placed a hand against the door beside her head.

"Don't worry. She believes you both had a glorious night together. Expect to have gooey eyes made at you all day for the next few days." She made to move, but he boxed her in with his other hand.

Aerie's heart began to pound; she mentally cursed her teenage hormones. "Are you not breaking your own rules here, Draco? Fraternizing with the enemy?" she asked in a tone of insouciance as her insides melted at the searching gaze he was inflicting. Stronger than any spell, his gray eyes pulled her in better than a love potion.

He pushed away reluctantly and stalked around the room.

"You keep looking at me like that, Mr. Malfoy, and I might start thinking you have feelings for me."

She meant it in jest, but his suddenly frozen form across the living room caused her breath to catch.

"Malfoys don't have feelings," he muttered after a moment, so low, she almost did not hear it.

Yet she did, and her temper flared. Raising her hand and forcing it in a fist, she was rewarded with a shout as Draco flew from his stance to land in an undignified flop on the couch. Aerie loomed over him, glaring down into his wary face. "_That_, my dear, is the biggest load of shit I have ever heard! I don't give a fat rat's ass if you actually have feelings for me or not, but I will not stand by and allow you to belittle your human qualities. Just because your _father_ doesn't have true feelings for anyone or anything, _does not_ mean that you are his clone. You have feelings, you are entitled to them, and I will not let you make declarations to the contrary when you are around me! Put on a damn face for the rest of the world, but I would think that after living with me for two months now, you would know better. That. Makes. Me. _Furious_!"

Giving him a shove in the chest in a juvenile show of good measure, she stomped away from the taken aback, prone man on the couch. Sudden laughter made her stop.

He was laughing. She glanced over her shoulder to a heart-stirring sight of Draco doubled over, his deep laughter bubbling over and making him cry from the intensity of it. Aerie's anger evaporated as quickly as it had started and she unwillingly smiled. Taking a seat at the table nearby, she watched in happy wonder as Draco slowly pulled himself together.

A few moments later and deep breath, Draco was up and moving to join Aerie, who was staring at him in a daze. She shook her head at him in amazement.

He was still smiling, which was doing nothing for her focus. "I don't think I have had anyone literally stamp their foot in anger at me or poke me in the chest with such vehemence," he chuckled, eyes completely alight in their mirth. Aerie was reminded of sterling silver. "I commend you for providing that _elegant_ little display of childishness."

Aerie crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at him, making him laugh again. "Glad that I could amuse you, Draco. I still stand by what I said, but I will forgive you because you've relaxed enough to laugh."

Lounging back in his chair and kicking his feet up on the table he said, "I don't know when was the last time I laughed that much. But explain to me what a clone is."

Aerie blinked. "What?"

"You said that I wasn't a clone of my father. What is that?"

She laughed out loud. "It's a Muggle term meaning an exact replica of another. I'm a blood traitor, remember? I was pretty immersed in the pop culture references of American Muggles."

"That's why I'm not associating myself with you outside of these rooms," he said and winked.

Aerie's mind whirled. "Of course." She yawned. "Well, Draco, I'm going to head to bed. It's late and I'm wiped out from the memory alterations."

He stood with her and followed her to her bedroom door. She stood there, wondering what it was that he wanted to say as his expression was clearly torn. After a few moments of nothing, she sighed, "Good night, Draco."

Moving to close the door, she was stopped by his hand. "I find," he started slowly, looking past her shoulder, "that I feel strangely indebted to you. I don't particularly like that feeling, but there it is. Expect some form of reciprocity."

"I hope not," she replied, "because that would mean that I was in trouble. But you're welcome regardless. Now go to bed."

He nodded distractedly and turned around to walk the three steps to his room. "Good night."

With a bemused shake of the head, Aerie closed her door. Definite progress made this evening, she thought with happiness. His mother would be tremendously happy to hear that. Moving to her desk with an intention of writing to her at that moment, she stopped when she saw a severe looking letter sitting precisely in the middle of her blotter with nothing written on the envelope.

Reaching out a hand tentatively, the second her finger touched a corner it ripped open and writing appeared across the parchment. She stepped closer to read it.

_Aeridia Matthews,_

_ We must talk. Tomorrow night meet me in the Room of Requirement 9pm._

_ Severus Snape_

"Oh shit," Aerie paled.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Aerie was thoroughly distracted when she went down to breakfast the next morning. She sat down next to Ginny Weasley with a brief "Morning" before tucking into her bagel, her mind trying to figure out why the headmaster would want to meet with her.

"—Dia." A voice broke through her daze. "Aeridia."

"Pardon?" She blinked up across the table at Jezebel Creedle, a fifth year Gryffindor friend of hers.

"I asked if you were alright," Creedle repeated. "You seem really out of it."

Aerie smiled. "Thanks for the concern, but I'm fine. I'm just starting to think about the NEWTs, that's all."

"Really?" Ginny poked into the conversation. "They're not until May. It's barely November."

"Leave it to the Head Girl to be so studious," Creedle laughed in response. "I dare say she will ace it just by walking into the room."

Aerie blushed, wishing that were true. Standing up, she grabbed another bagel to take with her. "That would be amazing, but unlikely. I will see you girls later."

And she wandered out without a backwards glance, her thoughts already turning back to the note that had immediately incinerated once she had read it last night. She made it through the day, carefully following the rules that she and Draco laid out yesterday afternoon: not sitting with each other in class, not talking to each other in class or in the halls, and she not sitting at the Slytherin table during meals. Though her mind may have been mostly elsewhere during class, she was not so out of it that she did not feel Draco staring a hole into her back at the table behind her in every class. That was almost enough to make her turn around and snap at him.

It did not help that Parkinson sat next to her during Potions. Aerie instantly knew this was the other girl's attempt at rubbing the supposed "sex time with Draco" in her face. Yet Aerie was also aware that Parkinson would not come right out and say it. The self-satisfaction was rolling off of Parkinson in waves.

"No longer in Draco's favor, I see," Parkinson sneered.

Aerie did not respond.

"I thought it was about time that Draco realized that associating with a blood traitor was like dealing with a nasty bug. But I guess if you look like one, it was easier for him to see it."

Aerie sighed. "Is that really the kind of insults you come up with, Parkinson? That's pathetic. If I throw a stick, will you leave?"

The Slytherin girl huffed, "I'm not a dog, _bitch_."

"Watch your mouth, Parkinson, it's unbecoming."

"I can say whatever the fuck I want, you whore."

"Five points from Slytherin for continuously insulting the Head Girl," Aerie fumed. "Now go away before I decide to take more."

Parkinson stood in outrage. "You _dare_ to talk to me like that, you filthy disgrace for a pureblood."

"Five more points for disruption of class time, Miss Parkinson," Slughorn's voice loomed from the front of the classroom. "I suggest you find a seat elsewhere before this gets out of hand."  
Parkinson grabbed her bag and flounced to the back of the classroom with a vicious glare thrown at Aerie.

With another sigh, Aerie silently scolded herself for letting her frustration get the better of her. It was not a good idea to instigate Parkinson like that, especially when the gloating was placed there by her own hand. Fueling the fire would only make things worse. A mental apology thrown in the air, she turned back to the lecture.

She was sitting at the table in their living room doodling on a piece of parchment when Draco came rushing in, the portrait slamming shut with a resounding thud. Aerie jumped at the noise.

"What's—" she started.

"I'm being summoned home tonight," he blurted in a rush, throwing himself in a seat and putting his head in his hands.

"Whatever for?" she demanded, all thoughts of Snape leaving her head at this announcement.

"I have no idea," he sighed, hands in hair. "I won't be back until Sunday night. With Malfoy Manor being used as the Dark Lord's headquarters, I can only imagine what they have in store for me."

Impulsively grabbing his hand, Aerie clasped it between her own to make him look up. She almost gasped at the turmoil churning there; the gray swirled in a storm of undisguised fear.

"I'm sure it's just a meeting. You haven't done anything wrong." She attempted a smile.

"I'm a Death Eater, Johnny," he sneered half-heartedly. "They are probably having me help kill whatever Mudbloods they've captured."

"You have spent all your life hating them, Draco," she replied, playing devil's advocate.

"Never enough to kill them!" he shouted, shaking off her hand and getting up. "I only ever thought of them as people with a disease. You can sit there and say all of this as cool as you please, but you have no idea what it's like! Having been raised with this kind of hate, it being all I've ever known, and now it feels like it's all been a lie. I thought my family was in the right to act this way, but now my resolve is disintegrating. I don't like all this death. My father has lost his favor with the Dark Lord and I don't even know if I will live that much longer because of my failing to kill Dumbledore in the spring. No one fails and lives in this world. It's all about survival, and I don't know how to do that here anymore."

"Draco—"

"Don't try and make me feel better about this, Matthews," he seethed. "You don't get it. No matter what you say. I don't understand how you can be so fucking happy in this country when it's hell to try and live in it."  
Aerie stood and crossed her arms. "I make the best of a situation, Draco. How I cope with things is really not the issue here. I'm a pureblood, and that's the only reason why I've been tolerated as long as I have. You will go home tonight and do whatever it takes to appease the Dark Lord and your father so that you can come back here. You will be fine because you will do all you can to survive. Calm down."

With a half-heated glare, Draco stalked to his room. Aerie slowly followed him and stopped before she reached the door when she heard something shatter.

_And maybe that's my cue to not push him_, she thought. Pulling her wand out, she sketched a quick spell in the air and waved it toward him. It was a spell of Dumbledore's creation, a combination of hidden and white magic to protect. Knowing he was going to need it tonight, Aerie did not hesitate to bestow it upon Draco. She discreetly watched as he paused in his throwing tantrum when the spell hit him and she backed away hastily when he turned to the door.

"You may not believe me," she whispered, "but I know you will be alright. I promise it."

She quietly snuck out the portrait hole, knowing she would find him exactly as she left him when she came back. A quick run up the stairs, and Aerie paced three times in front of the blank wall before a door appeared.

Opening and closing it swiftly, she turned to find Headmaster Severus Snape seated agitatedly in a large armchair in front of a fire, black robes managing to billow even when sitting. He stood when he saw her, black eyes narrowing.

"Are you out of your mind?" he started without preamble.

"No more so than you, I'm sure," she sniffed as she slumped into the other chair, tucking her feet under her. "How are you holding up, Severus, sir?"

Sitting slowly again and folding his hands in his lap, he gave her an assessing stare. "I thought Dumbledore taught you better than this. _Inconspicuous_ was the word he used. A theatric production is not _inconspicuous_."

"Pardon my language, sir, but even during these shitty times I believe that one should make the most of life. I'm doing my job."

"Aeridia," he sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples, unkempt black hair falling in his face. "You are making this difficult for me to keep you from notice. What was that little stint with Pansy Parkinson?"

Aerie stiffened. "How in Merlin's name could you possibly know about that? I made sure to cover my tracks. It was perfect!"

Snape looked up at her dryly. "Do you honestly expect that I'm not following your doings? I know that _I_ taught you better than that. Don't you think I would recognize my own teachings?"

Aerie blushed. "I'm sorry, Severus. You're right; I acted impetuously. But I thought it was a good idea."

"Making her think she had slept with Draco? How is that a good idea?"

"She's sleeping with Lucius."

Snape was astonished. "Not possible."

Aerie nodded wearily. "From her own lips. He has fallen on such desperate times that he's doing whatever he can think of to keep tabs on his son. I had to do something to make Parkinson happy to report positive information."

He pursed his lips in frustration. "Indeed. In hindsight, I reluctantly agree with your decision."

"Thank you."

"But I'm going to have to disband the drama production."

Aerie paused, not sure if she heard him right. "I beg your pardon?"

He looked her straight in the eye. "You may be a prized pupil of mine, Aerie, but that does not mean that I will allow you to put yourself and others at risk of punishment under the Dark Lord. I did not agree to this foolish scheme when it was presented to the students at the beginning of term, but I thought, if it was going to be unobtrusive, I would let it go. The play is getting out of hand, and I am starting to be questioned as headmaster. There is only so much that I can truly hide from the Dark Lord without the assistance of overly enthusiastic seventh years. You understand that too much frivolity will not go unpunished. Shakespeare is not a wizard play writer. You cannot perform a work by someone so clearly against the new order."

"Damn," she groaned. "I completely forgot about that."

"You have been too immersed in the Muggle culture in America. I spoke with your parents about that; they may have maintained your heritage and British tendencies, but they failed in keeping the Muggle from you."

"Muggle technology and fashion is bloody remarkable! They have better style than any pureblood in Great Britain."

He waved away her argument. "That is beside the point. Shakespeare was a Muggle; the Dark Lord will not tolerate that out of the students and he will view it as outward defiance."

She glared. "What are the children supposed to do with themselves to preoccupy their minds from the evil pervading this place? Most of them are too young to comprehend the depth of what's going on or that their lives are in jeopardy. I had spoken with McGonagall about it during the summer while she was headmaster and she agreed—"

"And it was the plan to have me as the headmaster to provide true protection of this place. Aerie, I know that your intentions are well meant, but you have to think more about your task rather than the entire student body." His tone was remarkably gentle.

She wrapped her arms around her knees. "I understand that, Severus. I truly do. That doesn't mean that I can't help in any way that I can."

"I'm doing this for your own good," he sighed. "Your job, the entire reason for your being here at Hogwarts, is to protect Draco. Narcissa and Dumbledore both knew that your particular skills would be best for this. I can't have you lose your focus, Aerie. If you need to focus on something else, work on protecting yourself. You are _not_ doing that."

"It's not about me," she replied.

Snape stood again. "If you are not here, then where does that leave Draco?"

That little statement made Aerie feel like she was ten years old again. Severus had just finished teaching her the first set of protection spells when he discussed the priorities of an individual. They were at her parents' home in Albany, New York, honing her abilities before it was even legal. Dumbledore had been inside talking with her mother while Severus was floating a doll and have Aerie practice protecting it.

"Protect the doll," he had said, "but remember that the doll is not the only one at risk here."

Aerie had looked up at the man she had called Uncle Sevus for as long as she could remember though there were no blood ties between them. "The only other person here is you, Uncle Sevus. But you are the attacker right now."

He had tapped her gently between the eyes. "Are you not important as well, Aeridia?"

In her innocent, child-like way, she said with complete honesty, "Of course not. I'm the protector. It's not about me."

With a quick flick, Severus had dropped the doll and forced Aerie to sit on the ground. Kneeling in front of her, he placed his wand at her heart. "My dear, you are just as important as the person you protect. Without you, where does that leave them?"

Aerie launched back in the present, blinking rapidly to dispel the tears, as the black-clothed man before her waited without changing expression. "I'm sorry, Uncle Sevus. I'm being foolish."

Severus rewarded her with one of his rare, small smiles. "That is why we are having this little discussion. Making sure you are taking the right path. Now, head to bed before I decide to take points from the Head Girl just to prove that I can."

Aerie good-naturedly stuck her tongue out at him. "Are you going to the Death Eater meeting tonight?"

He did not reply.

"Of course you are," she answered her own question. "Please keep an eye on Draco, Severus. I've placed several charms on him, but I obviously cannot be there. Try not to let the Dark Lord have him kill anyone. That is going to set back everything that I've gained this semester."

His face darkened. "Narcissa has already requested the same thing. He will be back to you by Sunday night. Good night, Aerie. I will make the announcement on Monday."

Aerie groaned. "They are not going to like that. The performance is only a couple of weeks away."

"_Good night_, Aeridia."

"'Night, Uncle Sevus."

Her profane muttering lasted until she got back to her room where her theory proved true; Draco was still in his room. The destruction extended out his door and ink crept across the stone floor. She peeked in hesitantly.

"Draco?"

He was flopped across his bed with an arm over his face. He gave no response.

His room was destroyed. Broken glass and feathers lay everywhere, curtains slashed and his books were piled in a torn-apart mess in one corner; his closet had exploded and was burning dully in the darkness. Aerie was disgustingly impressed. She had left him alone for only twenty minutes and he had thoroughly thrown himself into depression.

She pulled out her wand and began cleaning up, scourging the floor of the ink and returning the books and clothes to their former glory. "It's really nothing to get this upset over, you know," she stated gently, placing a strange glass contraption on a shelf.

He did not move.

"I understand it will be difficult. I can't necessary sympathize, but I can empathize. Whether it means anything to you or not, I know you will be okay."

That was the moment that Draco launched up from the bed and came over to her, pushing her roughly into the wall. "Stop," he fumed darkly, his nose almost brushing hers and his warm breath cascading over her. "I need you to stop being so fucking optimistic. I don't care what you think, because you're wrong. It's not going to be all right. The Chosen One is running for his life and The Dark Lord runs this world without opposition; and unless I do exactly as he says, my mother will be killed. I can't stand your cheerfulness."

Aerie nodded, their eyes locked. "I know that, Draco. But I don't care that you can't stand my optimism; you need it. You need to know that the entire world isn't as dark as it appears. If you keep pushing me away, then I will just latch on that much harder."

"You're mental," he rumbled, pulling away.

"I'm human," she replied, not moving from the wall. "I will see you Sunday night."

"If I'm lucky," he muttered, grabbing his wand from the floor where he had thrown it during his attack on the room and walking to the door.

"You will be," she said, making him pause. "Be careful."

He turned his head to look at her, eyes roaming her face as if to memorize it. Aerie forced a smile, tracing the line of his jaw and the fall of his hair in his face into her mind. The black suit he had put on contrasted well with the bright light of his hair, and it was in that moment that Aerie found herself falling. Dumbledore had warned her last year that this job would change her life, and here it came; falling in a serious case of like was not a part of the job description, which made her wonder if Dumbledore knew that her first and only job as a protector would result in this. She would not call it love, not yet, but the job she was doing had just become something more than just a job.

Something in her eyes must have changed because Draco froze, staring at her in astonishment. "What—"

Aerie shifted her gaze to the floor quickly, her heart pounding. "You had better go before you're late, Draco."

She did not look up again until she heard the portrait door open and close. Sliding to the floor, she rested her head on her knees. _Really?_ she demanded of herself. _Why did I have to recognize my feelings now?_

She sat there for twenty minutes before getting up and going to her room. Though she may not have been able to be with Draco physically as he faced this challenge, she could be there mentally to protect him. Pulling down the ornate, full-length mirror from her wall and placing it on the floor, she waved a hand to have four large candles settle in the four corners of the glass. Taking her shoes off and stepping onto the middle of the mirror, she traced the runes of connection in the air with her wand, followed by the runes for the mind. The light from the candles swarmed in a circle around her as she closed her eyes.

Immediately, a vision of a large marble foyer entered her brain. Lucius Malfoy was standing to the right with a hand clutching tightly to the arm attached to the body Aerie was invading. _Do not react_, she said into the mind of Narcissa Malfoy.

To her credit, Narcissa did not flinch when she heard Aerie's voice in her head.

_Draco is coming to you now_, she continued, _I have given him several protection spells to keep him from harm this weekend. But you will need to reassure him. He fears for you._

Narcissa's whole being flooded with warmth and love for her son at hearing this, though her outward appearance did not change.

_I will not ask what is to happen, that is not my job. Can you indicate whether or not he will be forced to kill anyone?_

The woman's thoughts conveyed no, even if she could not put the thoughts into words. An image of Voldemort appeared, brandishing a wand at a handful of Muggleborn wizards from the Ministry.

_I see. That's good to know. I'm sorry that he will have to witness this, but I know it can't be helped. Make sure that Lucius does not touch Draco. Keep him distracted. And get Draco back to school as quickly as allowed._

Narcissa agreed and Aerie backed out of her head, moving to the young Malfoy as he walked in the door. She filled Draco's head with encouragement and confidence without saying a word like she did with his mother, and when she was sure that he felt it, she left, slamming back into her own body.

The momentum threw her off the mirror and into her dresser, conking her head soundly into a drawer. "Ow, shit," she cursed, slowly getting up.

_Now what do I do? _ she questioned silently. She started with putting the candles and mirror away, then moved to picking up her room. That distraction only lasted about a half an hour before she was done and tapping her fingers agitatedly.

"I can't be like this all weekend!" she groaned. Her eyes roamed her room, searching for something to work on when her eyes caught a gray and black cat slinking down the hall. "Jimmy!"

She had not seen the cat in weeks. For whatever reason, Jimmy (short for Jimera, for the feline was indeed female) would not have herself occupy the same room as Draco. With Draco gone, Aerie guessed that Jimmy felt it was all right to roam the Head suite.

"I don't really appreciate your snootiness, Jimmy," she said, following the cat to the living room. "Where have you been? Getting food down in the kitchens?"

She immediately felt stupid for trying to get answers out of her pet. _I'm too high-strung. I need to go to bed_. Grabbing a sleeping potion from her healing chest, Aerie put on pajamas and got into bed. Taking enough for sixteen hours worth of sleep, she passed out dreamlessly.

Aerie spent the weekend furiously working on homework, constantly checking the clock and counting down the hours until the possible time of Draco's return. She practiced piano for hours, finished all of her papers for class, and even got ahead on most of the reading. She became so frustrated by the slowly creeping time that she covered every clock and silenced the suite from hearing the boom of the Hogwarts clock.

When Sunday evening rolled around, Aerie (with nothing to do) sat again at the piano with a book of Muggle music. Even as a pureblood, Aerie found the creations of Muggles completely wonderful and did not deny herself the indulgence of buying music or technology from them. This particular music book was by a composer named Frederic Chopin. The piece was called "Waltz in A-Minor: Valse Brilliante"; she had been working on this piece during the summer with her private instructor (a Muggle, no less) and had only just picked it back up again. Her sight-reading skills were adequate, but she missed having the tutoring over the piece. She was having a difficult time with one certain passage; the fluidity of the seventh run was not happening.

Jimmy had been sitting on the lid of the piano, idly watching Aerie's fingers attempt to swirl over the keys. When Aerie hit the keys in ugly frustration, the cat jumped away with a yowl of anger.

"Thanks for the support, Jimmy," she sighed, resting her elbows in the keys.

"It was sounding decent," a familiar deep voice said close behind her.

Aerie froze for a moment before slowly turning around in her seat and looking up. Draco was standing a foot behind her, hands in his pockets. Aerie's heart actually skipped a beat when their eyes locked, and saw purple circles darkening his face from exhaustion.

Then it hit her. Draco was back!

With a shriek of excitement, Aerie leapt up and threw her arms around his neck. "You're back!" Almost immediately, she pushed away with a cough. "Um, I mean, welcome back." Mentally berating herself, she went back to kneeling on the piano bench, trying to get her heart rate back to normal.

Draco could only be described as stunned. He still stood where she had attacked him, arms awkwardly outstretched on either side of him. She reached out and pushed his arms down. "You're making me feel horrible, standing like that," she said.

"What _was_ that?" he demanded.

"It was an uncalled for hug." She blushed.

"It was an attack on my person," he retorted, crossing his arms.

Aerie huffed, offended. "It was not. Don't be so melodramatic."

"I didn't realize you were so concerned about me, Johnny."

She sucked in a breath. This was a mistake. She should not have hugged him, and now he was going to taunt her in his overly snide way.

"It's…nice."

Her head snapped up, seeing his eyes furiously focused on the opposite wall. "Really?"

He sighed then snapped, "Don't make me say it again. I've had a hellish weekend."

Aerie narrowed her eyes and really scrutinized him. He was immaculately dressed as usual, but he appeared slightly frayed; it was if his soul had dimmed. On closer inspection and a little bit of prying into his brain, she saw the dark horror of trauma. She could not tell what it was. When he moved to go sit on the couch, she bit back a cry at the black shadow specter that followed him.

One of the many gifts she had been blessed with (if you could call it a blessing), was the power to See the aura of an individual. She had it like any other gifted with the Sight, but that was all she could See. She could not See the future, just the current standing of a person. It provided her with the perfect capabilities as a protector, yet that did not make it any easier to see the darkness following someone. If she let Draco stay in this state, the blackness would swallow him and leave him an empty, bleak shell of a person.

Before she could think twice about what she was doing, Aerie was up and rushing to Draco, who was sitting with his head in his hands. She knelt before him, making him look up. When he dropped his hands, she pushed forward and for the second time, wrapped her arms around his neck. She clung to him, wanting desperately for the blackness to recede, to convey that everything was all right. His body was cold.

He sat immobile for a few minutes; Aerie did not let him go, she just settled comfortably on her knees between his legs. "Yes, I was very worried for you, Draco," she said softly, one hand falling to his back to hug him closer. "I have no idea what you went through this weekend. I can't even begin to imagine. But you have to know that there was nothing you could do to stop whatever it was that happened. You made it, and that's what matters. It's just a good thing that you made it back safely. Just because you had to attend a Death Eater meeting doesn't automatically make you a bad person; you were doing what you could to survive. I know that; you know that. You're a good person stuck in a bad situation. I'm just glad you're safe."

Her concern spiked for a moment when she felt him start to shake, then realized he had started to cry. Her heart melted to feel him fall apart in her arms and that made her hold on that much tighter. His hands came up and fisted in her shirt at her waist, holding her immovable in front of him as his sobs raked through his body. The tears dripped down her back, soaking though her shirt, but Aerie did not mind. In fact, she was happy that he was being this vulnerable with her. She shushed him softly for almost an hour before he slowly calmed down.

He kept his head resting on her shoulder as his hands dropped. Aerie sat back and pulled out her wand. "_Accio kit_." Her knees screamed in protest as she got up and sat on the couch next to him. He would not look her in the eye. "I'm going to give you a potion that will dispel any bad dreams you have tonight," she said, ignoring him ignoring her.

She pulled out the bottle and placed it in his hand. He did not move to grasp it.

"You need to take it and go to bed, Draco. It's late and you need the sleep. Come on." She stood and pulled him up with her.

He shuffled behind her down the hall, into his room, and then collapsed on his bed, clothes and all. Aerie went to shut his curtains and lit the tip of her wand to see by. Draco had already downed the potion by the time she turned back. As she watched, his eyes slid shut into unconsciousness.

"Sleep the sleep of the innocent, Draco," she whispered, fingering his hair out of his face. "You can go back to being callous in the morning."

She bent down and gently kissed the un-furrowed brow, silently thanking the potion for temporarily easing the worries. He really was beautiful, she mused, even when he was strained. She backed out of the room quietly and closed the door.

Draco did indeed pretend that nothing happened the next morning. In fact, he did all he could to avoid crossing paths with Aerie. He did everything he could not to think about the humiliating display he gave the girl, silently cursing himself again and again for dropping his guard so much with her. The Head Girl pretended that nothing was wrong and continued her life completely unaffected. Except at the following night rehearsal since Sunday night's had been cancelled.

She hopped up on stage before everyone took their places and called for attention. Draco was sitting in the back of the auditorium like normal, feigning slumber, but quickly sat up in wariness when Aerie cleared her throat.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, especially after all of you have worked so hard this semester," she started with a sigh. "But Headmaster Snape is cancelling the production." She raised a hand to quell the outburst of angry questions. "Though he wouldn't tell me the direct reason why, I'm sure that he is doing this to protect us."

"He's a Death Eater!" someone cried indignantly.

"Yes, he is," Aerie replied with a nod. "But all of you are either pureblood or half-blood, so neither he nor the Death Eater professors have any reason to directly harm you. I can see that being outspoken in dark times like these is not only dangerous, but deadly. I was a fool to suggest having you risk your lives just to have a little fun. This is completely my fault for getting your hopes up only to dash them. For that I am truly sorry." She stepped down off the stage.

"What harm were we causing?" MacAbee asked, close to tears. "Putting on a play is no crime."

Aerie faced the stage with a sad smile. "You are right, honey; it's not a crime. The crime in the Dark Lord's eyes would be putting on a production written by a Muggle. Shakespeare, though his writing seems magical, is no more than a Muggle. And for that, all of you might be punished."

"We didn't know that," Kinnety argued.

"No you didn't," Aerie agreed. "But the Dark Lord is not a forgiving person. He might view this as a quiet rebellion and see fit to crush it. I don't want him getting that impression. For your sakes, I am letting this go. End of discussion."

Without answering any other of the upset questions from the students, Aerie walked straight out of the auditorium. Draco got up to follow her.

"Johnny!" he shouted after her. "Oi, Paulie, stop!"

She kept going up the stairs, not even bothering to acknowledge him. He quickly grabbed her arm and steered her down another corridor and into an empty classroom. He let her go and slammed the door shut. "What's going on?" he demanded.

Aerie straightened her robes and huffed in indignation, "I think I explained myself clearly in there."

"No, you didn't," he replied tersely. "I know you well enough that you wouldn't just give up like that. What does Snape have over you?"

She laughed. "Absolutely nothing, Draco. Believe me; he's actually looking out for the students. Now let's go back to our rooms."

She went to move past him, but his hand reached out and gripped her arm again. He heard a commotion outside. "Wait," he said softly to her, though his eyes were focused on the door. "Something's going on. Stay here."

"What?"

But he was gone, quietly shutting the door behind him.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" he heard her ask aloud.

What he saw made him roll his eyes. The students from the auditorium were slowly filing out, but his two stupid cronies were pushing their way through, wands out, heading to the door. Crabbe and Goyle were looking for him. One of the first years was pushed into the wall roughly, hitting her head with a shriek of pain. Crabbe whirled on her with his wand at her throat. Draco rushed up.

"Are you bored so much that you're resorting to tormenting first years, Crabbe?" he asked darkly.

Crabbe jumped away.

"Find something better to do," he continued, flicking his head away. "The play is over; they're not breaking the rules." He knew that Crabbe knew better than to argue, and Crabbe followed orders well. He grabbed Goyle and the two disappeared. Draco looked down at the little blond first year and winked at her before going back to the classroom where he left Aerie. Knowing that the young girl would have no problem relating his minimal heroics to his partner, he smirked delightfully at Aerie as he beckoned her out.

"What are you so happy about, Draco?" she asked guardedly.

He nodded to the girl hidden by the door from Aerie's view, and then walked away. He stopped just around the corner to listen in. Aerie came out of the room to see the first year standing there with a big smile on her face.

Aerie redirected her question at the girl. "So what has _you_ so happy, Madison?"

"Malfoy is so nice, Aerie!" she exclaimed. "These two big Slytherin creeps were pushing their way through us as we were leaving the theater. One pushed me into the wall and was about to curse me when Malfoy showed up. He said, 'Resorting to tormenting first years, Crabbe? Find something better to do.' And the guy just left! Then Malfoy turned and _winked_ at me! Can you believe it! Everyone says he's so scary, but he was so nice to me!"

Draco felt that he had heard enough and with the air of complete satisfaction, wandered back to his room to wait for the Head Girl to make good on their promise.

_Dammit, dammit, dammit. Bloody hell, bloody hell, _bloody _hell!_ she fumed silently, slowly dragging herself back to the Head suite. She honestly did not think that Draco would have been able to do it. Not only did he get a first year to say he was a decent person, he got her to have a crush on him as well! Now Aerie was going to have to follow through with the wager they had placed weeks ago and she was not even sure she could do it.

Attractive men intimidated her.

She had managed to not let it affect her completely by reminding herself that Draco was the job. That did not mean that her newly found affection for him was not impinging on her sense of responsibility. She did not have the confidence in herself to just go up to him and kiss him.

Sure, she would thoroughly enjoy it. She was not so convinced that _he_ would.

She shook her head to clear it. She was acting like a stupid teenager. And though she _was_ a teenager, her experiences should not put her within the "stupid" category. Better to get this done so that she could move on to continue her purpose.

Only romantically did attractive men intimidate her. This was not a romantic situation. If Aerie just kept thinking of it as a completion of a business transaction, then she would be fine.

_Doubtful_, she thought wearily, opening the portrait and walking in with fake confidence.

"You're marching in like you're going to battle," Draco chuckled from the couch.

Aerie shook her head. "No, um, just homework." She moved past him toward the hallway to her rooms.

"No, you're not," his tone froze her in her tracks. "You are going to come over here and make good on our wager, Miss Matthews."

She heard him get up and come up behind her.

"Most girls would be _begging_ for a chance like this," he said in her ear, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and exposing her neck. Aerie forgot how to breathe. He turned her to face him and slowly backed her up until she bumped a wall. He gently lifted her chin to have her look at him. "I'm a category of man that you will have had no experience with."

"This is _all_ new for me," she muttered before she could stop herself.

Instead of being surprised, he only appeared pleased. "Well then; you will definitely enjoy this."

And without waiting for her reaction, he gently pressed his lips to hers. Her heart stopped; her eyes wide. But as his lips slowly moved against hers, her lids fell shut and she began to respond, molding her mouth to his soft warmth. She felt his aura pulse, resounding deep in her being and her breathing spiked to a stop.

His hands went to her hips and slid up, pulling her tighter against his body. Her own hands, of their own volition, came up and gripped his shoulders, his muscles tightening delightfully. His tongue slipped between her lips, deepening the passion and making her head spin. Oh, he was very good at this; moving with an expertise that astounded her.

One of his arms came up, cushioning her head from the wall and tilting it so that it was at a better angle for access. His tongue toured her mouth, getting acquainted and proudly claiming. She tentatively did the same and was rewarded with a soft groan of contentment. She wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand in his hair and pulling him closer if that was possible. The dizzy feeling was not going away from the lack of oxygen, so Aerie reluctantly pulled back. Draco did not stop kissing her, instead opting to move down her jaw to her neck.

She gasped at the wondrous sensation, her knees suddenly failing on holding her up. Draco chuckled against her skin, the deep rumble of it echoing its way through her, and his arm tightening to support her. He trailed the tip of his tongue up her neck to her ear, where he captured it in his teeth. "For all your cocky talk, Aeridia," he whispered huskily, his breathing ragged. "You are putty in my very capable hands."

Aerie's heart was about to explode; she groaned and pulled his face back to hers, crashing their mouths together. She could feel Draco coming undone at her bold (but in her mind, desperate) move. The kiss was frantic, passionate, deeply probing, and above all completely out of control on both parts. When she felt that her lungs were about to burst, Aerie pulled back again, resting their foreheads together.

Her eyes were still closed, both of their tattered breathing cascading over the other; she felt his thumb rubbing softly over her cheek. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her in wonder, silver trying to gauge her response.

"Did that satisfy the wager?" she asked hesitantly.

"And you say that you've never been kissed before?" he asked instead, pushing a stray curl off her face.

"Yes, I haven't," she replied. "That was my first time."

He brushed his nose against hers. "I'm impressed."

Aerie's spirit soared. "Really?"

"And I don't compliment very often," he replied and smiled slightly. "I think that settles our score."

Her confidence level rose exponentially. "You're not so bad yourself," she cheekily responded.

He smirked. "You're being sarcastic while we're still pressed together?" They were still connected at every important point, his excitement perfectly evident and because of her short stature, pressed right below her naval.

"I'm the one against the wall, Draco," she countered and smiled. "You are the one who decides when to back away."

"You're warm," he said.

"You're addicted to me already," she shot back with a laugh.

"I could say the same for you," he retorted. "Your hands are still in my hair."

"If someone were to walk in right now, this position is compromising enough to warrant blackmail."

"Good thing we're the only ones who know the password."

"Parkinson would kill me for being this close to you."

"Parkinson can go fuck herself," he rejoined hotly, the coarse language sending shivers down her spine (she was sure he felt it). "She kisses like a fish."

Aerie burst out laughing, slipping her forehead from his and resting it on his shoulder, the overwhelming closeness of his eyes finally being too much for her to look at. She had not truly known what she had felt about him until he kissed her, but now she was completely sure that she was in love with him. He let her calm down from her laughing fit before finally pulling away. She instantly missed his warmth. The intimacy they had just shared caused everything to get awkward.

"I'm glad you think that I don't kiss like Parkinson," she said lightly, trying for a tone of nonchalance.

Draco saw right through her. "Don't try to pretend that this didn't affect you, Johnny. I will get offended."

She glared at him. "It was my first kiss, Draco; of course it affected me. But I can't let that change the way I treat you. Especially when I don't seem to have any effect on you."

She suddenly found herself against the wall again, her arms locked above her head and his face inches from her own. "Don't assume that you don't have an effect on me. Have more confidence in yourself. Do you not feel how hard I am against you?"

Aerie was speechless.

He gazed at her intently. "You will never hear me say this again, but consider me addicted."

And he was kissing her again, thoroughly and breathlessly. The surprise of the intensity of it threw her world off its axis. She was addictive? He certainly was for her; she returned the kiss with just as much fervor.

She broke away just as quickly. "This can't be a common occurrence, Draco," she panted. "You just wanted to win on the bet and now you have. You have to work on making Parkinson convinced of your devotion to her. Kissing me won't help."

"I don't have to kiss her anymore, do I?" he asked, pulling away again and putting some distance between them.

"No." Aerie shook her head. "But we will have to alter her memory about once a week to think she's been sleeping with you."

"Of course," Draco agreed. He pinned her with his gaze. "Then you have to stop tempting me, Matthews. You are distracting."

The second the words suck in, Aerie beamed. "I'm glad to hear that, Draco. Thank you for being honest with me."

"I'm always honest," he shot back.

"You're just evasive at giving up your feelings."

"I've never really been that kind of person, Johnny."

"And that drives me crazy, because I never really know what you're feeling."

He scrutinized her carefully, "I would argue that point; you seem to be in my head all of the time. It's a little creepy."

She intentionally misunderstood and said, "You think about me all the time? That's going to give me a complex."

Surprisingly, Draco flushed.

Aerie pretended not to notice. "I need to work on homework, so I will leave you now. But just for the record, you are in my thoughts much more frequently than you should."

He smirked. "That's only natural. I am devastatingly attractive."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't push it, Draco." But her heart thumped in agreement and she stepped away from the wall, coming up to him. She lightly touched his chest and looked up at him. Taking a deep, calming breath, she said, "Thank you for using my real name."

Almost as if he could not help it, he leaned toward her before he could stop himself. "Of course."

Not giving in to the temptation of closing the last few inches between them, Aerie backed away and left to go to her room.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

He was burning. The warmth of the girl had set him on fire. His whole body humming and his lips tingling from their intense contact, Draco quickly strode to his room and closed the door. Leaning his head against the cool stone of the wall, his mind replayed the last twenty minutes again and again.

This was not good. He had to put this away. Thinking about Aerie, their kiss, her scent, her dark curls in his fists, her breasts pressed against him, her… everything… would only lead to trouble for him. He could not protect her from the horrors going on in his life. He thanked Merlin sincerely that he was so skilled at Occlumency; he did not know what would happen if Voldemort found out about the girl. His family was already in danger and he did not need one more thing to worry about.

But the attraction was undeniable. He was obsessed with her. And he did not even really know anything about her. She was a pureblood, she had assured him, plus she would not have been able to attend Hogwarts and be Head Girl if she had been anything less. That led him to question why she even came to Hogwarts this year when the world was so clearly in turmoil. Why did she not stay in America where it was at least a little bit safer? Was there a reason? She was more advanced at magic than she ever indicated; her quality of performance was well above anyone he knew. If she was so good, did she think that she could handle herself in the upcoming battle?

That thought did not sit well with him. He steered his mind from it, going back to the question of why he was so attracted to her. Deciding to answer at least one question about her, he went to his bookshelf and pulled down a large volume entitle _Great Wizardry Families _from the top shelf. Wanting to know where her family originated, he opened the book and turned to the middle. The benefits of this book came from the enchantment placed on it to automatically update itself after every new birth in the families. He had turned straight to his own family at Malfoy. He gently brushed his fingers across the embossed names of his mother and father before turning the page to the next family of Matthews. Going straight to the bottom he found what he was looking for.

_Astoria Aeridia Matthews_ was situated right underneath _Corvus Leo Matthews _and _Cassiopeia Lyra Greengrass_. Greengrass—he knew that name. Why did it sound familiar? Then it hit him—that was the name of one of Parkinson's friends! Aerie was related to some students here and she never said a word. Nor had she mentioned that her first name was not, indeed, Aeridia. He tossed aside his frustration at that; it really was not any of his business what she wanted to call herself. He flipped back through the book until he found the Greengrass family. There were two young Greengrass members here at the school then. Daphne and another Astoria. Daphne was the name of the girl who associated with Parkinson. Looking further up he found that the father had a brother and sister. And looked who married out of the family! The Greengrass girls' father Fornax had a sister named Cassiopeia who married a Matthews. So Aerie was cousin to the Greengrass Slytherin girls at Hogwarts. He ran through his memory to see if he recalled any time when Aerie would have talked with the girls over the course of her being here and could not remember. Then again, Aerie talked with everyone.

He looked at the tree again and found a Malfoy tie further up in the branches. _And the world keeps getting smaller, _he thought with a shake of the head and closed the tomb. So Aerie's mother was from England; that explained her accent. He had wondered why, if she was from America, she spoke like a native Brit.

Putting the book away, Draco stood in the middle of the room and stared at the door. He sighed. "Well, this is just a pain in the ass."

Kissing Aerie again was out of the question. There was no reason to and it would only cause more problems in his continuously confused mind. He was barely being able to maintain his composure whenever he would go to Malfoy Manor for meetings and other assignments. He remembered every kill he was forced to make and each took a little piece of his soul with them. Voldemort was relentless and Draco was pulling further and further away in his loyalty. Frankly, he would be thrilled if Potter was able to rid the world of the Dark Lord.

He almost cursed himself for thinking that. Blast Potter and his heroic destiny. But if he were to succeed, Draco would have the chance for his family to live without fear of death. From the bottom of his soul, for the first time, Draco wished for the peace that would allow him to finally breathe easy. _And if Potter is the one to do that, then so be it_. He thought about Aerie, and smiled. Maybe, once all of this was done, he would have a chance. For now, he would have to continue to be an ass.

He woke the next morning with a splitting headache, echoes from the nightmare sending shivers down his spine. The dream consisted of his mother and Aerie held at wand point. He had just enough time to pull out his own wand before the unknown assailant killed them both. He woke several times in shock and always the same dream came back. The intensity of it all put him in a black mood.

He wandered out of his room in his uniform to see Aerie about to walk out of the portrait hole. She paused with one foot out and flushed when their eyes met. Draco felt like a knife was thrust into his heart when seeing her, his mind going back to his dream. He turned away from her and waited until the portrait closed before looking up again. He sighed. It was going to be extremely difficult to ignore her. He headed down to the Great Hall ten minutes later and slumped into a seat next to Blaise. Crabbe and Goyle were gorging like normal and Parkinson was several seats down next to Daphne Greengrass. He blinked in surprise, quickly looking down at his plate. He could clearly see the family resemblance between Aerie and the Greengrass girls. All three had dark curls and high cheekbones. But where Aerie was dark in eyes, the Greengrass girls had blue. Did they even know they were all related?

"Parkinson is giving you disgustingly adoring eyes, Draco," Blaise sneered, interrupting his thoughts.

"Let her, I don't give a damn," he replied sharply.

Blaise scrutinized him critically. "You are in a fowler mood than usual, mate. Is everything alright?"

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Not really. The Dark Lord is demanding too much of my family. It's getting difficult."

"You're not in trouble are you?"

"I'm not dead yet, so I don't think so," he muttered darkly. Inside, he suddenly felt warmth and a feeling that could only be described as comfort melting through him. He looked up, right into the eyes of Aerie, who was sitting three tables over at the Hufflepuff section with some friends. She smiled slightly and looked away. The comfort lingered briefly before disappearing.

He instinctively grabbed his chest, trying to hold on to the remnants of that feeling.

"What's wrong?" Blaise asked.

Draco turned to him in concern. "I don't understand what's going on. The simple lack of her has more of an impact on me than others' presence." He got up quickly and grabbed his bag, leaving Blaise staring after him in confusion.

He left the Great Hall and went straight to his first class. No one here; excellent. He slammed his bag on the table and threw himself into a seat. What the hell just happened? Without having to think about it, he had been able to find the girl out a crowd of over one thousand students. He knew when she was looking at him. And it gave him peace. He groaned; kissing her once (twice, he reminded himself) had altered everything. He could still feel her—a tiny white light inside himself that, if followed, would lead him right back to the Great Hall where she was sitting.

The door opened to the classroom. "Hello, Drakie," he heard Parkinson simper and suppressed another groan.

"You've been ignoring me all week," she continued, coming up behind him and draped herself across his shoulders. "Why?"

He shrugged her off. "We talked about this; I have an image to uphold. Being tied down to you changes that." He tried not to gag; her perfume was overpowering. Not like the light, fresh smell of his roommate.

He shut that thought away as quickly as it had come.

"But it's just the two of us right now, darling," Parkinson replied, trailing her fingers up his arm.

"Not for long," he retorted, hearing the tell-tale signs of students in the halls.

She pouted briefly before turning him to face her and kissing him roughly. He pushed her away with a sigh. "Get to class."

"That was something to think about until this weekend," she said softly then walked away.

The second she was gone, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Merlin, she gave wet kisses. His hand came away with pink, glittery lip gloss. He had the urge to be sick.

It was not like when Aerie kissed him. She consisted of nothing but softness, warmth, and a spice that he could not name. Speaking of the Head Girl…he felt that warmth again inside and turned in his seat, coming face to face with Aerie. His heart jumped as he took in her black curls piled high in a messy bun, dark almond-shaped eyes staring at her notebook, and full lips pink and only enhanced by lip balm.

"How long—"

She shrugged. "Long enough. We don't need to talk about it." She pulled out a quill and the essay they had due and focused intently on it.

He turned back to the front and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Women. As the rest of the students filed in the classroom, he glared at anyone who looked his way or had any indication of sitting next to him. He was not in a sociable mood.

That weekend, Draco left Aerie to take care of Parkinson again, giving her free reign of the story she would fabricate for the girl. Neither had spoken much to one another during the week and when they did, it was mostly in monosyllables. It was pissing him off that they were not talking, but he was not going to be the first to broach any form of serious conversation with her. He snapped at anyone who looked at him wrong. Five weeks of the same dodge-and-evade game they played followed.

With only one more week until holiday break, Draco sank deeper into depression. He had not been called home since that weekend over a month ago, and he had not seen or heard from his mother since then. Parkinson apparently was doing her job at reporting favorable information to his father because he had not heard from him either. At the moment, he was laying on his bed, idly doodling in the air with his wand, when he heard a crash and curse come from the living room.

He was on his feet and out the door in seconds. Skidding to a stop, he stared at the vision before him.

Garland draped around the room with lights twinkling. There was a twelve foot white Christmas tree in the corner by the fireplace, covered in deep green, black, and silver ornaments. A ladder stood to one side of it with Aerie perched at the top, brandishing her wand at a large silver star that was piecing itself back together. Music swept softly through the suite. What froze him was her.

She had changed out of her uniform and was wearing a deep red dress that fell to mid thigh, covered in lace. A white ribbon stood in stark contrast with her black hair and she was barefoot. She made eye contact with him then went back to fixing the star, placing it gently at the top of the tree when she was done.

"I dropped the star, no need to get your knickers in a twist," she said, climbing down.

Draco did not say anything, just watched each leg as she came down the rungs. He had not realized her legs were so long, or muscular. His eyes snapped back to the tree when she hit the ground. He examined the ornaments with more attention than was warranted.

"If you can't be kind," she stated, misinterpreting his gaze, "then at least have the decency to be vague."

He cleared his throat. "It looks nice, actually."

She blinked at the sudden praise. "Oh, um, thank you. I felt that though it's late, it's better to decorate for Christmas than not at all. I was getting depressed."

He had noticed. Though he may not have been in the most receptive moods himself, he could not stop watching her. What he saw over the past weeks was a nice façade of happiness, but once no one appeared to be looking at her, Aerie withdrew in herself. It frustrated him that it concerned him.

"Are you going home for the holidays?" he asked out of the blue.

The sad smile that answered his question hurt him. "I can't get to America at this time, Draco. You know that. Voldemort has frozen all travel out of Great Britain."

No, he had not known that.

"But it's for the best," she said with a shrug. "My family is safe and I'm safe enough here."

That still did not make her happy, he noted. They both sat on the couch and stared into the fire.

"How long are you required to be at Malfoy Manor, Draco?" she inquired suddenly.

"No longer than is absolutely necessary, I suppose," he replied. "I'm to keep an eye on the remaining students here to attempt to quell any rebellion."

"Are there really that many students staying then?"

"Just a little over one hundred." He was wondering why she wanted to know.

"I just don't want to be overly bored." She smiled slightly, fiddling with the hem on her dress. He watched her fingers skirt over the lace and had to look away quickly so that it would not distract him.

"Parkinson's not staying, so you won't have to worry about altering her memory. Are the Greengrass girls staying?"

Aerie blinked at him in confusion. "I don't know. Should I?"

In his attempt to answer some of his own questions about her, he dove ahead. "Are you not related to them?"

She stared at him hard for a moment, then sat back and laughed. "You _have_ looked into my history," she chuckled, apparently answering a question of her own. "Yes, Draco, I am related to Daphne and Astoria. First cousins, but I'm sure you already knew that. The reason why it seems like I'm ignoring them is that they don't know that I exist."

Now it was Draco's turn to blink in confusion. She held up a hand before he could ask the next obvious query.

"The story is embarrassing for my family, but I don't have a problem sharing it since you would get a more dramatic and scandalous version from anyone on my mother's side of the family," she started, smiling at him conspiratorially. His heart did a funny jig, though he only allowed himself to raise an eyebrow to have her go on.

She settled further into the couch, tucking her legs under her and turning her full attention to him. "My mother, Cassiopeia Lyra Greengrass, lived here in England with the rest of her family. After she graduated from Hogwarts, she went on the customary world tour with a couple of friends. When she visited America, she met a man who turned her world on its axis and showed her all that had been unavailable to her. She left her friends so that she might stay in the States with him and for the next two years lost touch with reality. I will spare you the details of everything she did during that time, because they are irrelevant. What is important is that her family was getting increasingly frustrated at her lackadaisical lifestyle with a man who had no intention of marrying her. She got pregnant, much to their dismay, but a week later she married another man by the name of Matthews. Seven months later, I was born."

"Corvus Leo Matthews had been one of my mother's first friends in America, and was the first to offer her slight redemption. He accepted me as his own and never wavers. My mother's family disowned her immediately upon learning of her hiccup and will never again consider her a part of the family. My mum never saw the man who impregnated her again after she told him about the upcoming birth."

He took a minute to absorb her story before smirking. "That sounds just about as scandalous as it gets."

She laughed.

"What was your real father's name?" he asked.

"I have no idea," she responded, shaking her head. "That was the one detail Mum wouldn't divulge. Probably thinking I would try and go find him. Which I did anyway."

"How did you find out that you were illegitimate?"

She scrutinized him for a moment in her weird, mind-probing way before continuing, hesitating as if she were picking her words carefully. "You know that trick I do where I seem to know what you're thinking? It's different than Occlumency, because I wouldn't be able to understand _anything_ about you if I tried to use that since you're a master at it. I understand the aura around a person as an extension of themselves that is not controlled by the will of the mind. Being able to read that allows me to answer the unasked questions or understand what you want me to know without you ever needing to say a word. It also is tied tightly to those you're related to or have a deep relationship with, though each appears differently. I've known that I was not tied to Daddy the way I was tied to Mum since I was six. It was only natural that I would ask. Once I did, Mum wasn't able to lie about anything anymore."

He let his brain process that and went on to a lighter question, "Why do you go by 'Aeridia' and not 'Astoria'?"

She looked relieved that the topic was easier. "It's what Daddy called me. 'Astoria' was my grandmother's name and was given to me when Mum was still on good terms with her. Daddy called me 'Aeridia' to make life easier for my mother so that she wouldn't keep looking at me with sad eyes. And wouldn't it be strange to have two Astorias at Hogwarts right now?"

He did not see how that was an easier topic, but let it go and did not answer her last question. Her history was fascinating! He had never heard of someone being able to read auras. She was almost like a human lie-detector without the need for a spell!

"You want to test me," she said, just as the challenge was forming in his mind.

He glared at her. "Not if you are always going to be answering me before I even think of the question." That was going to get infuriating very fast.

She shrugged. "Go ahead."

"Ask me a question then and tell me whether my response is true or false."

He wanted her to start simple.

"What is your favorite color?"

_That's good_, he thought. "Green."

"True and typical. What was the name of your first pet?"

"Jupiter."

"True. What was it?"

He grinned. "A wolverine."

"Lie," she said and grinned back. "Though I will give you points for not hesitating. What was it really?"

"A falcon."

"That's better. What is your favorite season and why?"

"Summer, because my father is rarely home and we visit our summer home in Cote d'Ivoire."

She looked at him closely. "Most of that was true except for the house in Cote d'Ivoire. It's not the house, is it." The last part was more of a statement rather than a question.

He had to hand it to her; she was able to pick out the lie within mostly truths. He did not answer and watched her as she tried to focus on the truth in his aura. Her eyes became slightly unfocused. "It's not the house," she said again, a small frown forming on her forehead. "It's in the house though."

He kept his face blank. She was right, but he wanted to know how far she could go without him having to say a word. He leaned back and draped an arm across the back of the couch. She bent forward, subconsciously, trying to get into his aura further. Her perfume fell over him in an enticing wave. He sucked in a breath, intently focusing on his summer home in his mind and not the warm, supple body coming closer to him. "Within the library," she murmured, "but it's more than that. It's a feature of the library, something only you know about. Yes, that's it."

She was so intent on her reading, he almost smirked at how out of reality she had become. Aerie was on her knees, leaning toward him, face only a few inches away, and he had a clear view down her dress. _Eyes up!_ he scolded himself, and dragged his eyes back to the soft face looking through him at something no one but she could see. But he was a man (though young) and was prone to hormones just like any other male, so his eyes almost immediately traveled back down her neck to exposed curve of her breasts. He clenched his fists; he had refrained from running his hands over her when they kissed over a month ago, and he had regretted being such a gentleman, wanting nothing more than to take both breasts in his hands and make her moan.

Aerie suddenly pulled back, sitting on her heels and her eyes focusing again. "I lost it, Draco. You stopped thinking about the secret place in the library and started on something else." She blinked in confusion. "I was almost there. You weren't thinking in anything coherent, so your aura was just pulsing. What was going on in your head?"

_I was a little distracted by the large tits coming towards my face and the smell of your skin and swell of your lips and the curve of your ass sticking up in the air…_he said silently, but out loud he replied smoothly, "Nothing."

"Lie." She crossed her arms under the very breasts he had been ogling. He had to fight with all his might to keep looking her in the eye and close his mind from her prying. She smirked coyly and said, "There, your aura pulsed again. What is it?"

Draco mentally cursed himself and tried to think about other things. _Like homework; yes, I have a test to study for. Herbology, stupid class. Full of idiots. Aerie sits at the table in front of me. Aerie…_

"You said my name," the girl in his thoughts said suddenly, making him focus back on her sitting in front of him.

"No, I didn't," he replied casually, knowing for sure he had not said anything aloud.

She was gazing at him in wonder, her head tilted to the side, her midnight curls tumbling over her shoulder and contrasting with the red of her dress. "Not with your words, but your body distinctly said 'Aerie' as you were trying very hard not to think about whatever it was that made your aura pulse. I've never seen anything like it."

Draco frowned, not liking that she was able to read him so well. "Can you turn that trick off, Matthews? A man will never get privacy around you."

A smile slowly crept over her face and his heart thudded painfully in his chest. "I can dim it with will, but I find it fascinating to read you." She leaned forward and quickly closed the few foot distance between them, all the while locking him in place with her eyes. He could not move even if he wanted to. "I didn't realize that I was so prevalent in your thoughts, Master Slytherin. Am _I_ the reason for your distraction?"

He scoffed. "Absolutely not." His fists clenched against the couch again.

Her black eyes glittered in mischief, narrowing in mirth. "Lie."

This was not fair. She was reading him without a reciprocal reaction. He was not going to have that. He moved forward, knowing she would immediately retreat. She did, with pure nervousness, her previous bravado gone. He followed her with the mirror image of her earlier smirk. "I think," he drawled, pushing a curl out of her face and reveling in the shiver that ran through her. "That you should not boast of another's supposed feelings without sharing your own. So let me ask you, Miss Unsortable, how much of a distraction am I to you?"

"You don't have to pry into my brain to the get the answers, Draco," she said softly, and he stopped trying to use Legilimency. But he did not back away.

She took a deep breath and broke eye contact, going back to fiddling with the hem of her dress.

"But do you really think that now is the time to fully understand your feelings? Or even mine?" she questioned.

The meaning behind her words was immediately realized. She was right. Merlin, he could not afford trying to understand the complex tangle of the emotions she evoked in him. The Dark Lord did not need to have his eye on Draco, and definitely not on this girl. The point was to be a shadow, and Draco being distracted by feelings would get him killed. Or her. He backed away and retreated to the other side of the couch.

"Lock those feelings away for now, Draco," she murmured, her voice breaking. He looked up at her sharply, but the only betrayal of her inner feelings was her tone, for her face, with all of its soft curves and brightly dark eyes, only smiled at him brilliantly. "We have time in the future to talk about them."

The following months flowed into one another seamlessly and similarly. Draco dragged himself through each day with an emptiness that was carefully cultivated and bolstered by the smiles of sweetness Aerie gave him whenever their eyes met. He watched as Aerie glided into each month without ever having an issue with the Death Eaters who ran the school. She was never questioned by Headmaster Snape or the others while other students slowly began to disappear from the classes. Longbottom and Lovegood had left in hiding long ago and the Weasley girl more recently. He knew Aerie was a supporter of the Boy-Who-Lived, but never had she been punished for it. The concept always swept relief through him, but that was quickly put away in a compartment distinctly labeled "AERIE" in the far reaches of his mind. _Not now_, he would tell himself.

Winter melted into spring that promised of beginning outside, while inside held the ever looming horror of Voldemort's ended patience. Draco tried all that he could to stay away from home; Voldemort's frustration was continually taken out on those around him. His father, normally taciturn, was increasing in his fury on Draco and his mother. The torment should have ripped Draco asunder, tossing him into the bleakest of depressions, yet it was at times like these that hope crept into his dismal mentality. He did not understand it. When going home for a weekend to be forced into participation of Muggle torture or to receive angry curses from Voldemort on the lack of Harry Potter, his mind flooded with the warmth of hope. An encouragement from an unknown source would sweep through him. The residual glow of it would last through the weekend, just long enough to get him back to school where Aerie would smile at him and walk into another room.

Though the "AERIE" file in his mind was overflowing, he still attempted to throw more into it. Like how it bothered him that they had to maintain their cool cordiality in the halls, or how he was not satisfied with just a smile from her when their eyes met, or how he kept having to quell the desire to throw her up against a wall and have his way with her. The last one was particularly dangerous. Blaise Zabini would smirk at him knowingly every time Draco would see Aerie in the halls.

She did not help by walking out of the bathroom with her wet curls dripping around her face, smelling sinfully good of a mix of strawberry and jasmine. The scent always lingered in their suite and reminded him of what he could not have. It was funny really, the entire wizarding world (and even the Muggle one) was falling apart, and all Draco could think about was how much he wanted the girl.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Aerie slammed into the Room of Requirement at precisely nine o' clock during the Easter Holiday and rushed forward, throwing herself at the feet of Severus Snape reclining in one of the chairs.

"Tell me it's not true, Uncle Sevus!" she nearly screeched, gripping his knees.

"Lucius and Bellatrix are attempting to make the confirmation now," he sighed, his hand agitatedly tapping on the armrest, either distracted enough not to notice her holding his knees or not caring.

"Draco is going to be punished for this if they're not!" she cried. "He's not going to be coming back to school now, is he?"

"Most likely not, which is why I summoned you here, Aeridia." His black eyes met her equally dark ones. "I have prepared you for this, but I need to be sure that you are willing to do it."

Aerie shook her head in dismissal. "Never a question; I'm ready. You will cover my absence, I'm sure?"

Severus nodded. "Though it will be rare for me to make an appearance here, I will make the proper announcements. The Head Girl will have been removed due to overt support of Muggles and Muggleborn wizards, sending her to be questioned by the Ministry."

Aerie winced, not liking the sound of that. "Isn't that a little harsh?"

He looked at her levelly. "It would be the only reason why you would leave."

She mimicked his earlier sigh. "Do you have to head there as well?"

"I am attempting to stall as long as possible. Long enough to get you on your way, Aeridia."

Aerie blinked at him. Tension ran through her body at the fear that was creeping up her spine. "My things are in my room. My bag—"

"Unless the things in there are necessary, which I know they are not, they will remain there until your return," Severus chided gently. "Time is of the essence now."

She flashed him an irritated glare. "Then why did you wait until this evening to meet with me? I could have been there and back a hundred times over!"

"Identifying Potter and his friends does not need your meddling. This is the choice that Draco must make on his own. Albus discussed this with you over a year ago, so you cannot interfere until after his decision."

The fear trickled away and Aerie smiled brilliantly. "Then I best be off; I have nothing to fear. Draco needs me after making a good decision. I don't think he will know what to do with himself."

Severus stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words. "You can't be serious."

"About what?" she asked, rolling up her sleeves and pulling out her wand.

He looked at her incredulously. "You're in love with him."

Instead of outright denial like she would have done before, Aerie just shrugged. "I came to terms with that fact a couple of months ago, Uncle Sevus. Uncle Albus had warned me that this job would alter my world, and now I understand what he meant by that." Though thinking about Albus Dumbledore made her sad since he was the one who first showed an interest in her abilities, her smile was exultant at the thought of the truth of Uncle Albus' words to her. "I want to protect him not because I was told to, but because I want to. His safety is all I think about anymore." She pointed her wand to the floor and started etching symbols into the stone.

Severus was staring at her in undisguised shock. When he did not say anything, Aerie paused and turned back to him. "At least be happy that I'm taking this job extremely seriously."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't reveal yourself to him."

She winked. "Only in his dreams."

She went back to finishing the runes on the floor. She heard Severus return to sit on the chair. Runes for the mind, heart, air, sleep, and sight mingled systematically with the symbols of light, sound, smell, and memory. All of these were meant to make her virtually undetectable, a form of cloaking spell that would make her invisible and nonexistent to people while still being able to affect the environment around her. This would allow her to walk right into the lion's den at Malfoy Manor so that she could watch over Draco.

This spell was not used by the normal witch and wizard, mainly because the average wizard did not know it. The other reason it was not used was due to a little quirk in Aerie's genetic makeup. Apparently, the average witch and wizard did not have the capabilities of using the spell (Severus had tried multiple times); otherwise, Voldemort would have utilized it decades ago to effectively take over the world without being detected.

For the hundredth time of using this spell, Aerie wondered what it was about her that made her so special that she could use it. She could See auras, but so could psychics. Her affinity to easy learning of magic had just been a positive quality. The only thing she could think that would make her so special was the ability to Apparate into any building. It came in handy going in and out of Hogwarts during her years of training when it was supposed to be impossible to do so within the walls. Upon further thought, she let the idea go. Severus knew about her gifts, as had Albus; if the Apparating ability was so significant, then both would have told her. She just figured she was special and neither one of them said anything to the contrary.

She drew the last symbol for infinity in the center and tucked her wand back in her thigh sheath that she had strapped on before meeting here. "Done," she said, raising her head.

Severus got up and walked slowly around the circle of runes, checking for errors. When he was satisfied that everything was in order, he uncrossed his arms and stopped in front of her.

"Do not do anything stupid, Astoria Aeridia," he said softly.

Aerie froze for a moment, then smiled. She knew this was his way of caring for her. "Nothing that you wouldn't do, Uncle Sevus. _Initium_."

Brilliant blue light erupted from the runes on the floor, covering Aerie in a cold radiance. Ah, the comfort of perfectly performed spells. Just as soon as it appeared, the light was gone, leaving her standing exactly as she had been without runes surrounding her. Severus still stood before her, staring at the place he believed she stood, but he could not see her. He nodded and swept from the room. Aerie giggled, leaping after him. She always found being nonexistent a thrill. With a silent pop, Aerie left Hogwarts.

She stood at the base of the sweeping white stone staircase in the foyer of Malfoy Manor, having been here a time or two in the minds of Narcissa and Draco. Without a glance in either direction, she ascended the stairs to the third floor, following the mental map she had memorized of the Manor that Severus had provided her. Down a stark hall of more white stone and ornate Persian rugs, Aerie came to the end and stopped before a beautifully carved black door. Etchings of dragons occupied most of the door with large emeralds for eyes that winked in the light from a near window.

_Why am I pausing?_ she mentally asked herself, a hand outstretched to open the door. _It's just a room._

_It's Draco's room_, another voice in her head sounded just a little too much besotted. _And you love him._

"I know that," she hissed aloud, "that shouldn't mean that I should be nervous about going into his room."

_It holds all that makes him who he is_, the voice continued, _and you have not been able to witness that. Go in!_

With a sigh and a shaking hand, wondering why all her confidence left her when it came to Draco, Aerie pushed through the door, her bodiless form floating in. There was no need to open the door if there was not a reason to alert the people in the house.

The first thing she observed was that the room was much larger than his room at Hogwarts, sweeping roughly fifteen meters by twenty meters. The second thing she noticed was the bed that dominated the space. It was also the third, fourth, and fifth thing she noted; her eyes kept coming back to it because it was just so _there_. Draped in heavy black velvet, the mahogany four-poster commanded the room. It was large enough to sleep five people side-by-side with arm space and was covered in what looked like the softest black satin money could buy.

"Oh shit," she breathed, her heart pounding just a little faster. Images of him popped into her head of naked skin and tangled sheets. "Oh _shit!_"

With great will, Aerie turned away and inspected the rest of the room and quickly came to the realization that there was not much to look at: the walls were bare; no fire in the huge fireplace to the left (though the room was freezing); one small night table on the left side of the bed and a large armoire on the right wall. Next to the fireplace was a door. With another hot glance at the bed, Aerie went through it—and froze again with a dropped jaw, her blood immediately pounding in her ears.

"Holy _fuck_! Can he make this any more difficult for me?" she demanded to the heavens, knowing no one could hear her and feeling a little crazy for talking to herself.

White marble steps lead her down to a large open room that was the most opulent bathroom she had ever been in. Marble columns rose before her around a huge tub sunk into the floor on a dais. On her right stretched a black marble counter with two sinks (why he needed two, she was not quite sure) and a silver gilt mirror extending the length of it. On the left was a clear glass wall enclosing a large shower. _Does he have parties in his shower?_ She wondered. _You could twenty people in there!_

Black towels were strewn artistically across a white chaise lounge located in the middle of the room. Walking up to the sink, she noticed a little alcove behind the wall where the toilet was located.

Overall, she had found a room that she was going to have to avoid like the plague if she had any hopes of staying focused. Sinful thoughts were already creeping into her mind, more so about the bathroom than the bed. Fantasies on the bench conveniently in the shower, the marble lip of the pool-sized tub, on the chaise lounge underneath…oh dear. There was a crystal chandelier glittering above.

Again with determination, Aerie walked out. The temperature had increased too much for her. "Focus, Matthews," she growled. "You now know the lay of the land. Not that you really needed to do that, but you did. Now get to work."

With a wave of her hand, she lit a fire, intending to be an unseen elf in his quarters. Protection runes formed in her hands and she placed them in every corner of the room and every corner of the two windows framing the bed.

It was as she was finishing her spells that the door burst open and the man she was trying desperately not to think about in such close proximity to the bed stalked in. She jumped and whirled.

Draco slammed the door shut and waved his wand at it, locking it from the inside. Aerie tried to slow her breathing as she watched him stand, glaring at the door, also attempting to slow his breathing. All her love poured forth, unbidden, as she looked him over.

His aura was a mix of emotions. Black with anger at Voldemort, red with frustration at having his wand thrust from him (apparently the wand he was holding was not his, but another Death Eater's), orange with defiance at knowing that Harry Potter had been in his home and Draco did not give him up, and (Aerie was surprised) blue with happiness that Harry had escaped.

"Oh, Draco," she sighed happily.

Draco froze.

_Oh fuck, no. He can't hear me, can he?_ She thought wildly.

Draco turned around, his eyes scanning the room and passing over Aerie standing invisible next to the window. She inhaled in relief.

Running a hand through his hair, Draco growled deep in his throat, loosening the knot of his tie with the other hand. "She's not even here and I feel her. I'm going fucking crazy," he muttered, tossing the tie.

Aerie blinked. He felt her? When had that started? She was brought out of her musings by the sight of Draco's jacket hitting the floor and his fingers unbuttoning his black dress shirt. She stared in heated fascination as he made quick work of the buttons and slipped the shirt from his shoulders._ Oh! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! Hot!_ He walked towards her and she nearly dropped to her knees. His chest and abs begged for her to run her hands over them. Darker blond hair trailed into his dress pants and Aerie just about cried from the longing. All the blood in her body convalesced in one spot.

Not seeing her, he opened a drawer in the night stand and pulled out a shot glass and whisky decanter, quickly pouring a shot and knocking it back. The second and third disappeared just a fast. The fourth he took his time, nursing it, leaning against the cold window only two feet from Aerie.

"My heart is ever at your service, Draco," she whispered with a smile. "You are safe." _You wouldn't be, if I was corporeal right now_, she thought, wanting to wrap her hands around the bicep in her line of vision. _Merlin, I love your arms._ Her eyes traveled slowly the rest of the way down his body. _I love your neck, I love your chest, I fucking _love_ your abs, I love your ass; I love your legs. I love you._

At that moment, Draco downed the rest of his whisky and walked toward the bathroom, taking off his belt in the process. Aerie closed her eyes. She may have been treating herself with observing him, but she would not indulge in this particular fantasy until they were both aware of it. She heard the shower turn on. She whimpered. _You sound like a wanton hussy, Matthews. Get it together!_ she scolded herself. But it was very difficult to keep her thoughts straight when listening to Draco splash in the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to strip and join him there. For thirty minutes, Aerie attempted to distract herself, thoroughly astounded that he was taking so long. He was never like this at school. _Then again, he has to share the bathroom at school._ Aerie would be taking long showers as well if she had a bathroom like that. She trailed her fingers lightly over the black sheets, then stuck both hands in the tousled satin. This was not the distraction she needed, but she indulged in a few moments of blissful daydreaming; climbing onto the bed, she allowed a couple of seconds of environmental involvement before sinking back into nonexistence. Draco would not see the indention her body made on the mattress.

He came out ten minutes later in nothing but a towel, dripping wet, and fulfilling every one of Aerie's wet dreams in the process. She was leaning against his headboard when he came out, clamping her eyes shut again after searing her memory with the image he provided. She listened to him get dressed and only opened her eyes when she heard the tinkle of glass and the splash of more whisky. And, Merlin, he was in nothing but sweatpants. High-end sweatpants, but still.

He had another two shots of whisky. The boy was really trying to make himself drunk, she mused, concerned. He probably had not eaten anything today either.

"I feel you here," he murmured softly into his seventh glass, his back to her.

Aerie froze.

"I don't know how you're hiding yourself from me, but stop it. Show yourself, Johnny," he said, setting his glass down and stretching himself out on his bed, mere feet from Aerie's perch on the other end. "I feel the same warm feeling whenever you stare at me. Why are you here? Why are you not at school? Why the hell do I care if you are after all that has happened today?"

Aerie's heart soared and broke as he rubbed a hand over his face, knowing she could not show herself in this house without alerting the occupants. He turned his blurry gaze (oh, yes, he was getting drunk) to her side of the bed.

"You're making me go fucking insane, Aeridia," he grumbled right before he passed out.

Aerie was not sure whether to be angry or pleased with that statement, so she suspended judgment until further review. With a quick flop, she was lying prone beside him, watching him sleep peacefully.

"Time to talk, hun," she said, waving her hand across his forehead and passing out herself.

_This was Aerie's first attempt at dream-walking and the beginning experience was not pleasant. Soupy white fog drenched her and tried to push her away, not wanting her to interrupt the dreamer. After what felt like an eternity of deep sea walking with the current against her, she broke through and stumbled, suddenly dry and also in strappy stiletto heels. Looking down at herself, Aerie was stunned to find that she was in black ball gown. Her reflection in the gilt mirror beside her showed her neckline plunging down to the middle of her stomach, breasts supported by the halter style neck. Her entire back was exposed with strings of diamonds draped over it and the rest of the dress fell in folds of the lightest silk and one high slit right up the front of dress, coming to a stop a smidge above too high. Her curly hair had been controlled into romantic waves over one shoulder and white gloves pulled up over her elbows. Smoky eyes and blood red lipstick completed the ensemble. She had to admit, though she looked kind of like a slut, she looked hot._

"_What on earth is he dreaming about?" she wondered aloud, noticing for the first time she was in a wing of Malfoy Manor. Voices to her right led her to two double doors. Her mental map told her the ballroom was on the other side. The moment her hand touched the dark wood, it swung open and the noise in the bright, broad space died instantly. Aerie was prepared for this. Her intrusion to the dream was causing the normal brainwaves of Draco's mind to reassess the situation. It would correct itself within moments. She sauntered in without hesitation, descending the large steps with the utmost confidence knowing all of this was not reality. She laughed mentally at herself. Her self-assurance rarely extended to dealing with people she did not know; her confidence only came from knowing her own limitations and understanding the spells she could work. Yet here she commanded her presence._

_Holding her head up, she reached the bottom of the stairs without tripping. She loved high heels, and these were deceptively comfortable. The crowd parted before her and Draco stepped forward, looking resplendent in a Muggle tuxedo. He extended a hand to her—which she took instantly—and led her to the center of the dance floor; the crowd bled back into the blurry outskirts of the dream._

"_I knew you would come," he said with a smile, placing a hand on her shoulder blade and sweeping her into the waltz. "I don't dream like a normal person. I have to have my mind guarded at all times."_

_She missed a step in the waltz, for which Draco corrected without problem. "You planned this?" she demanded. _What the hell?_ she thought_, I'm supposed to only be in the dream as a natural addition, not a planned intrusion. _She was going to have to give him more credit in his deducing skills._

_Draco spun her and continued the dance. "Naturally. I felt you in my room this evening and figured that the Johnny I knew had something she needed to tell me. You've kept something from me for far too long and it was pissing me off. The only reasons I could see that you would be in my room were that you wanted to see me naked, or you needed to talk to me."_

_Aerie huffed, "You think highly of yourself, Draco. I'm impressed that you figured out that much after what happened today. But how did you know I was in the room?"_

_The invisible musicians ended the song, and Draco swirled them to a stop. Tucking her arm in his, he walked them out of the ballroom onto a balcony, the fuzzy edges of the dream solidifying as they moved. "I have been more aware of you for months, Johnny," he said as they sat on a bench._

"_When did that start?" she asked, "and what do you mean by that?"_

"_Unfortunately, I can tell you exactly when it started. October twentieth, the night we kissed. I woke up the next morning knowing when you looked at me and roughly knowing when you were close to me, even when I couldn't see you. A warm little white light would form."_

_She had wondered how it was possible for him to look up right into her eyes every time she glanced at him. She still was not quite sure why it happened._

"_You are being very honest with me right now. Very talkative. Why is that?"_

_His smirk was impish. "This is _my_ dream, _my_ head. No one gets in here unless I want them to. I let you into my head because I wanted to know what the hell is really going on with you. The only thing I can provide is honest answers for you if I can hope for honest answers from you. So, Miss Unsortable, why do you want to be in my head right now?"_

_She nodded in approval. "Well played, Lysander. I never would have guessed that my skills would be noticed. I'm here to tell you the truth, though there are those who would wish me not to."_

_He raised a brow. "And what is the truth?"_

"_I am here to protect you," she said with a shrug._

_She was going to give him a moment to absorb that, waiting for the expected reaction. He did exactly as she thought. He laughed._

"_That is not the truth."_

"_Oh, but it is," she argued. "Your mother requested my skills from Dumbledore. I have been trained since I was a child to be the protector I am today. Dumbledore had the foresight to see this happening."_

"_But you're no older than me, Johnny." He was still chuckling, the twit._

"_With a higher level of magical training. You yourself have noted that fact. Not out loud, but your aura has clearly expressed it a time or two over the course of the school year."_

"_A few extra tricks in your repertoire hardly means—"_

"_I will show you the contract the next time we see each other."_

_That made him pause. He scrutinized her for a moment, eyes momentarily caught at the skin of her thigh crossed out of the slit of her dress and the curve of her chest. "Why you?" he questioned with a cough when his eyes finally got back to her face._

_Aerie shrugged again. "It's my destiny? I don't know. I just know that I have enjoyed the job far more than I should."_

_Draco seemed to like that answer. "How are you in the Manor without being seen or detected?"_

"_An uncommon spell that only works on me. You won't see me in the Manor because the moment I appear, the alarms will go off, I'm sure. Just know that I'm there. But then, apparently you already knew that."_

"_That I did," he laughed._

_Aerie narrowed her eyes. "You getting in the shower and the display beforehand were all to tease me, wasn't it?" She was accusing._

_Draco leaned forward. "That it was. Did you enjoy it?"_

_With a snort, Aerie stood, the proximity making her temperature rise. "I closed my eyes."_

_He stood with her, right behind her, gently trailing a finger down her back. "Pity," he murmured in her ear. "You look nice." His fingers traced along the exposed skin at her waist making goose bumps erupt._

_She stepped away and around to face him. "It was your choice of attire for me. I didn't have a say."_

_With lazy hooded eyes, he roamed her body and looked slowly back up, paying particular attention to the curve of her hip and exposed skin of her cleavage again. She struggled not to cross her arms. _

"_And I chose well," he finally stated simply. His eyes suddenly snapped to her face. "What does this mean now? What is going to happen?"_

_Reeling for a moment from the intense gaze he had just given her, Aerie quickly tried to get her mind back into the here and now. "I'm stuck with you. Whether you stay here or go back to school, I am your personal poltergeist. I will no longer be seen by anyone until I feel that you are safe. This will be the last time you see me in your dreams."_

_He shook his head. "Not true."_

_Aerie paused. He has dreamt about her? "Fine, this will be the last time you see me in your dreams in this fashion. Our equal give and take repartee."_

_He nodded. "Probably. You and I don't do much talking in the dreams I've had."_

_As she was sure he meant it to, the comment made her blush. "You are definitely more vocal in your dreams."_

_He shrugged and took her hand, leading her back into the ballroom as the musicians began another number. He took her in his arms. "I was getting tired of not being able to talk with you. You're the only person who has been able to understand me; to like me as a man and not for my money. Forgive me if I'm a little pissed about it and am exploiting it in my guarded mind. Shut up and dance with me, Matthews."_

_With a laugh, Aerie did. He was a good dancer, but then, she would not have expected anything less from someone like him. She was not sure if it was the dream or something else, but he was a lot more relaxed here. Wanting to know why, she attempted to read his aura and was flabbergasted. He did not have one!_

"_You're aura is gone!" she gasped, stopping them both._

"_Didn't realize it," he responded dryly, leading her back into the dance._

But it makes sense,_ she thought, following his lead, _the aura is around the body, and I'm inside his head.

"_Before we wake up, Matthews," he said a few minutes later, "I want to make one thing perfectly clear." He waited to make sure she was listening. She was. "Stop protecting me. You're going to get yourself killed. If the Dark Lord learns of this, you will be dead before you realize it. Get out of the Manor and go into hiding; I don't want your death on my conscience."_

_Aerie smiled. "And miss haunting you day and night and making you paranoid? Not a chance in hell."_

_Draco grabbed her face in his hands, surprising her. With his bright silver eyes inches from hers, her thought pattern scattered. "This will be the one time you hear this from me," he started, "I'm _begging_ you to get out of here. _Please_ leave and protect yourself. I will be fine. Just _please_ leave."_

_She inhaled deeply and raised her hands to cover his. "No," she replied distinctly._

_The look he gave her sent shivers down her spine. Blood pounded in her ears. "You're a fool," he growled, his hands traveled down her sides and around her waist, pulling her close, splaying across her exposed back. She could feel him getting excited as he completely closed the distance between them, dropping his face to her neck. The heat from their connection was making her dizzy with desire._

_The pounding occurred again. It was at that moment that Aerie realized it was not her blood pressure. "What—?"_

_The rush of fog descended on them and she was swept away._

She jolted awake with a groan. Stupid, stupid consciousness. She wanted to go back. She turned her head to the side to see Draco glaring at the door in similar frustration.

"You have the worst fucking timing," he cursed, launching off the bed as another knock resounded.

For two straight days Aerie followed Draco around like a puppy. They were the most exciting and simultaneously the most boring two days of her life. Exciting because she was following Draco around. Boring because she could do nothing but follow him around. Her own personal sexual frustration after being cut off in the dream nearly drove her crazy. She could not tell if it was bothering him. He spent most of his time in his room, reading or staring at the ceiling, never once attempting to communicate with her. She enjoyed watching him, but having nothing to do to occupy her own time was killing her. It was many times that she stopped herself from writing a note and allowing him to read it.

Narcissa came to his room twice, once each day, to see her son. Aerie's heart nearly broke during each visit. The love between mother and son was so sound. You could see it in the respect they enacted toward one another and in the quiet way they asked personal health and safety questions.

Of Lucius, there was no word. Aerie wandered away from Draco the evening of the second day to see if she could find the disgusting father. She searched the Manor, staying away from the dining hall that was used as a meeting room; she had no desire to come upon a Death Eater. Sticking to the east side of the home where the Malfoy family had their rooms, Aerie snuck into every room for any evidence of Lucius or his doings, not really anticipating finding him.

When she slipped into a small room at the end of the fourth floor corridor, she had fully expected another cloth-covered, dust filled bedroom. What she found was the naked ass of one Lucius Malfoy, thrusting, grunting, and groaning into Pansy Parkinson, who was lying naked and face down on a desk, his fingers working her clitoris and making her cry out as she met him thrust for thrust, hands gripping the edge of the desk with white knuckled determination. Gagging, Aerie backed out through the door again, with Parkinson's cries of "Harder, harder, faster!" following her out. Well, she found him.

She could not help but see everything in the three second glimpse she had of the two. His skin was almost gray, his stomach bulging from the tell-tale consequence of too much drinking. Coupled with the sheen of sweat and grotesquely straining face, Aerie was feeling sick to her stomach. There was once a time when she would have said that Draco looked like his father; now she would never make that similarity again. Parkinson, well, she looked like a whore; her wanton screams the embodiment of a sex addict. The two were humping like overzealous bunnies, and not for the reason of keeping tabs on Draco. Parkinson had not seen Draco in over two weeks; not at school, and certainly not here. So why were the two sneaking away like clandestine lovers? Easy; Lucius was not getting it from his wife (because she despised him) and Parkinson was not getting any from Draco (because she was not keeping an eye on him or supposedly sleeping with him).

Aerie tried really hard not to think about them and hurried away, intending to report all of this to Narcissa. It was about time she knew. If she did not already; Aerie would not doubt that the woman was well aware of her husband's extracurricular activities.

The door to the study was open when Aerie came up and snuck in. The very person she was looking for stood by the window looking out. Grabbing a quill and piece of parchment, Aerie wrote:

_Felt like you needed to know: Lucius and Pansy Parkinson have been sleeping together for months. Lucius is using her to keep an eye on Draco. Just came across them on the fourth floor of the east wing in the far left corner bedroom. Have been altering Parkinson's memories. Ask Draco._

_ A_

Folding the parchment, Aerie walked up to Narcissa and placed the parchment on the sill in front of her. The second Aerie released the paper, it achieved corporeal form and the mother's eyes went straight to it. Without hesitation, she opened it, scanning the letter, and flicked her wand over it, burning it away.

Aerie watched her reaction. As she thought, Narcissa was aware. Her hazel eyes flared in fury. "I know," she muttered, then turned and walked out, heading upstairs.

Aerie followed her to Draco's room.

"Draco?" she knocked.

The boy answered the door a few moments later. "Mother." He stepped aside to let her in.

"She just informed me of something," Narcissa said once the door was closed and Aerie knew she was referring to her. Draco and Narcissa had discussed the day before the history leading up to and purpose of Aerie's introduction to Draco. Draco had taken it all extremely well; he only chided his mother for caring too much about him (which nearly brought Aerie to tears). Narcissa knew full well that Aerie had followed Draco to Malfoy Manor.

"And I'm sure I'm not going to like it at all," Draco replied, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

"Your father—"

"Has been gathering information about me through Pansy," he interrupted.

Narcissa sighed. "Yes, she indicated that you knew. But I'm sure she didn't tell you the payment he was giving the girl, did she?"

Draco looked up at her blankly. "Payment? He was paying Parkinson?"

She nodded. "In a manner of speaking. He's been having sex with her."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Perfect. Didn't feel the need to tell me this, Johnny?" he demanded to the ceiling, knowing Aerie would hear him. Aerie sighed.

"Ease up on the girl, Draco. She just suffered witnessing them."

Draco grimaced. "Lovely. Another reason for you to get out of here, Johnny. Mother, release her from her contract. The more she learns, the faster they will kill her."

Aerie fumed. Talking about her like she was an incompetent little girl. She had not managed to protect Draco for the past eight months with no skill. She was fully qualified and had been trained by two fantastic wizards! Uncle Albus would be rolling in his grave if he heard how patronizing Draco was being toward her. Uncle Sevus would scold Draco then Aerie for not proving her worth.

"—I didn't realize it mattered to you this much, Draco," Narcissa was saying, bringing Aerie back to the present.

"We're not talking about this, Mother," he crossed his arms.

"Has she become—"

"Stop asking," he interrupted.

"I just find that—"

"We're done," Draco snapped. "We are _not_ talking about Matthews, and we are _not_ talking about her job. Or anything that has anything to do with her. My father is fucking the girl who we've been mind-altering to think she has been sleeping with me. It's kept me safe. End of discussion. I'm going to bed."

Narcissa nodded in understanding. "Goodnight, Draco."

She left. Aerie turned to Draco. He took a deep breath and spat, "That was information I could have used, Matthews."

Oh boy, he was angry.

"You and I need to talk, _now_," he growled. "I'm going to sleep. You had better be in my dreams or when you become corporeal, there will be hell to pay."

Aerie was pretty sure that he was serious, if the black anger rolling off him was any indication. Be that as it may, she had no intention of joining him in the dream world. She was just going to have to deal with his frustration when this was all over. For now, he could use this energy to keep going. Darkness was on the horizon, and Aerie knew it was going to take every ounce of energy just to make it through.

Two weeks later, Aerie and Draco were back at Hogwarts. Neither of them was happy about it. Narcissa barely let him go, nearly pleading with the Dark Lord that sending her son back would kill him. That did not change the circumstances. Draco had specific instructions from Lucius that if Harry Potter were to come back to the school, bring him to Voldemort and their family would receive redemption. Draco had given his father the ugliest scowl and stated that he would do what needed to be done.

The two of them now stood in the Head suite, Aerie still invisible.

"Hell is about to break loose here," he murmured morosely.

Aerie nodded and sighed, knowing he could not see her.

"Crabbe and Goyle will be coming here soon," he continued. "This is where I say that I'm glad you're invisible. There is some unhealthy interest there."

None of his words were really making sense. But at that moment, the bell from the Hogwarts' tower gonged and an announcement sounded. "All students report to the Great Hall immediately."

Draco sighed. "Potter's in the castle. Let's go."

They followed the flow of students into the Great Hall where Professor McGonagall stood at the head table with the teachers. Aerie noticed neither Severus nor the Carrow twins were there.

Aerie looked over the heads of the students at the head table, a figure in white catching her attention. No one else seemed to notice the beautiful woman standing beside Professor Sprout in such contrast to the dark robes swirling around to find seats. She had long, shimmering red hair falling to her waist and clearly non-human features. The high cheekbones and sharp nose, though gorgeous, were almost feline. Pointed ears peeked from the curtain of hair. Clear, ice blue eyes were glowing as they connected with hers. Aerie gasped. This woman could see her!

The noise from the Great Hall faded to the background instantly as the two women stared at each other. Students still swarmed around them, talking, in panic, but no sound emitted from their throats. Aerie glanced around warily, finding Draco taking a seat at the Slytherin table.

"We must talk, Daughter," the woman said suddenly to Aerie in a voice like a dozen soft bells and she made the two of them disappear from the crowded hall.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

They stood on a plateau, overlooking a canyon. No wind stirred the sparse landscape.

"Where are we?" Aerie demanded, "Why did you call me daughter? Who _are_ you?"

The woman smiled; with a sweeping hand she indicated the wide space around them. "This is the land owned by our people in a place you call Maine of the United States of America; this is Glory. Humans cannot see it; I brought you here so that we may talk. I called you 'daughter' because that is who you are; you are not what you have been raised to believe. You were born to this world sixteen human years ago and I regret every one of those years giving you up. I am your birth mother."

Aerie narrowed her eyes, waiting for more. When the woman said nothing and only gave her an expectant look with her unnerving blue eyes and lack of pupils, she fumed, the emotional overload fraying all of her patience and not allowing her to absorb the weighty information that was just given her.

"My mother?" she scoffed. The woman nodded, her smile widening. "You pull me away from the biggest battle about to commence in wizard history, from the job I was destined to accomplish, from the man I love to tell me that you are my mother and I'm really sixteen years old and not eighteen? Why couldn't you have done this in a few days or cared at all in the past twelve years when I knew I was adopted by the man I _thought_ was my father and raised by the woman I _thought_ was my mother? Put me the hell back in that frenzy at Hogwarts so that I can be useful!"

Icy wind suddenly sliced across the distance between them. The woman's voice boomed. "That tussle is not a place for _my daughter_. I will not have you get yourself killed."

Aerie could feel her fury rising. "I don't see how you have a say in anything that I do or don't do. You haven't been a part of my life for me to feel respect for you. I have to get back; take me there."

The cold bluster ceased abruptly and the white woman looked confused. It was at that moment that Aerie realized this almost inhuman female was controlling the weather through her emotions. "You," the woman began in a shocked voice. She paused, gathering her words, then said, "You would risk your life for a human?"

Now it was Aerie's turn to be confused. "That is the second time you have spoken with disdain towards humans. Are you really not human?"

The laugh that escaped the woman's mouth sounded like nothing short of beautiful. Flowers blossomed around her feet. "Of course I am not human. Nor are you, my darling."

Aerie's heart stopped. "Don't tell me that."

She was done. With a fierce determination, Aerie closed her eyes and Apparated back to Hogwarts.

She appeared, no longer invisible, at the entrance to the Room of Requirement. She had willed herself to Draco's side, but was thrust outside of the one room of Hogwarts she could not pop into. She tucked herself back into a corner to wait for someone to emerge and took a moment to get a gauge on what was going on.

The castle was a mess. Booms and screams resounded down the corridor, and the foundation shook and threw Aerie to her knees. The window to her left glowed alternately red and green. With an anxious glance at the wall where she had no idea what was going on inside, she leapt up and ran down the hall and a flight of stairs, meaning to do at least some good while she had the opportunity. The woman in white would probably again tear her away from the school momentarily and Aerie wanted to make a dent in the Death Eater scum who were infiltrating the school.

Tracing runes for protection over her chest, Aerie turned a corner, right into a cluster of Death Eaters and Order members. One of the masked men saw her coming around the corner and whipped his wand toward her, long tendrils of cord rushing at her. She ducked instinctively and the Death Eater turned back to the wizards he was fighting. Adrenaline thudded through her veins as a slight trickle of fear crept up. She had never been in a serious battle before. With a deep breath, she forced the fear away, shoving it in a box in the back of her mind, and stood up, pointing her wand at the man, who was slowly cornering the Order member behind a plinth from a statue. She was good; dueling had been a forte during her private lessons with Uncle Albus and Sevus. Now, if she just treated this as a bigger duel…

With a jerk of her wrist, the man flew back and cracked his head against the wall, slumping to the ground. She could have laughed at the simplicity of her charm having such an impact. She turned to the other Death Eaters; with similar movements, all six men smacked the wall and crumpled to the floor with the four Order members staring at her in shock looking between her and the unconscious men.

"_Incancarcerus_," she said, pointing her wand at the Death Eaters and long black rope whipped out and wrapped around them.

The wall behind her suddenly exploded, tossing everyone away and crushing two of the Death Eaters in the rubble. A stone collided heavily with Aerie's back, knocking the breath from her lungs. When she looked behind her for the source of the explosion, what little breath she was gaining left her lungs in place of fear; a giant was attempting to get in the castle! The shouts intensified as spells immediately started ricocheting off the tough hide of the female giant. None of them were working. Aerie scuttled back across the stones, quickly running through her mental repertoire of spells for anything about giants and came up empty. _Oh shit_, she thought.

The giant had made it into the corridor and was shouldering its way towards them when the familiar suffocation of Apparition enveloped her.

Aerie suddenly found herself back on the plateau in Glory with the non-human woman in white, her dress floating gracefully around her in the gently breeze.

"What the bloody hell?" Aerie shouted, getting up from her kneeling position slowly, the pain in her back throbbing minutely. "Why can't you just wait until a few weeks from now to talk with me?"

She attempted to Disapparate, but failed.

The woman was reclining on a chaise lounge, looking very out of place on the sparse landscape. "Because if you keep going back, you may die. Then I will lose the chance to talk with you."

"Maybe you should have thought of that sometime during the last eighteen years of my life."

"You are sixteen, my daughter."

"You keep saying that. I don't believe it. And why can't I Apparate out of here?"

The woman waved a hand and procured another chaise lounge for Aerie to sit on. Aerie remained standing.

"You cannot Apparate because I do not wish you to Apparate. Please sit."

Aerie crossed her arms. "Who _are _you?"

The woman's sudden smile was breathless. "I am your mother. My name is Dah'liandri-Ahra, and I am an elf."

Yes, it was now confirmed. Control over the situation was entirely impossible because Aerie was speechless. Her mental capacities stopped working, and with a collapse, she plopped onto the seat. In an instant, the woman was kneeling at her feet.

"There is so much to tell you, my darling: so much for me to share with you. You have much to learn," she crooned, her soft hands tucking Aerie's curls behind her ears and allowing a few moments to collect her thoughts.

With desperation, Aerie read her aura, trying to find the deceit that she was certain was lurking in the woman's shadows. She probed for the lies that would make all of this a sick joke at an inconvenient time. Her hopes were dashed as the aura pulsed with the essence of pure truth and deep regret. And, Merlin, this woman was weeping love from every fiber of her being. The ties between their two auras was much more intertwined than she would like to see, but after years of observing familial auras, Aerie had to admit that the ties were definitely that of a mother and daughter. She sniffed a small sob; she had spent years justifying the aura connection with Cassiopeia as just having a different kind of mother/daughter relationship than everyone else. Now she knew it was due to memory alterations. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that this woman spoke the truth. She sighed; she might as well try and understand.

"An elf?" Aerie finally managed, unnerved by the close proximity of the creature. She could not wrap her name around the name.

"Yes. And you are half-elf."

"So I am still human." That little fact provided untold amount of relief for Aerie.

"Yes."

Aerie looked up at Dah'liandri-Ahra and was stunned at the ethereal beauty. "You really don't seem like an elf. I thought all elves were only a couple of feet high and slaves for wizarding families."

The scowl that appeared on the woman's face even looked elegant as she gracefully swept back to her chair. "The 'house-elves,' as you call them, are a lowly species that deviated from our races centuries ago. We have not been associated with them for millennia. We removed ourselves from public interaction with the human world around the same time."

"I have never heard of an elf such as you," Aerie commented, curious despite herself.

"We have been carefully controlling our exposure to remain out of human histories. We found that the portrayals we were given were not always favorable. We are still present, finding the human race to be rather diverting in their silly wars and passionate lives."

Listening raptly, Aerie absorbed the new information like a sponge, but she began working discreetly on trying to Disapparate. She was tracing runes for travel, speed, and time along the hem of her skirt, making it appear as though she was doodling idly as she listened. Though she wanted to know what her true history contained, it seemed to suddenly pale in comparison to the importance of having to get back to Hogwarts. This conversation had temporarily gone on long enough.

"You obviously are," she replied aloud, finishing the last swirl. "So who was the human who distracted you enough to break your un-involvement?"

"Fornax Greengrass."

Aerie blinked in surprise right before her runes rushed her away, thrusting her back to the battle.

She appeared in front of the Room of Requirement again within a whirlwind of bright blue runes and the chill of alternate space travel. As soon as the wind died down, a familiar voice behind her asked in undisguised shock, "Aeridia?"

When she turned, she was met by the most beautiful sight. Draco was getting up from the floor beside an unconscious Goyle, his eyes rapidly absorbing her figure as if he could not quite believe she stood there. As soon as he was sure that he had not hit his head harder than he thought, he rushed forward, crushing her to his chest. His arms tight around her, Aerie lost focus for a few moments and simply hugged him.

He smelled of smoke and a scent thoroughly his own, a mixture of mahogany and spice. She felt him take a deep breath in her hair, sighing heavily as he exhaled. "I just nearly died, Matthews. I thought for sure that you had to be in there. Where the bloody hell have you been? You smell like the sun, and it's the middle of the night."

Aerie was rocketed back into the here and now. She pulled away. "Not in the Room of Requirement. It's a very long story and I don't have the time to tell you. You need to get to safety."

Draco glanced at Goyle lying on the floor. Aerie waved her wand over him, levitating the unconscious boy in the air. Draco took her hand and pulled her around the corner into an abandoned classroom. She gently deposited the young Death Eater on a table. Draco locked the door behind them and turned to her, talking in clipped sentences. "Potter has gotten away. Crabbe is dead. I want you to hide in here until this is all over. I have to go find my mother."

Aerie's heart plummeted. "No! You'll get killed going out there! Listen to me—I don't know how long I have until she pulls me away, but Draco, _you_ are the one that needs to hide. Hogwarts is crumbling."

As if to emphasize her point, the floor trembled and threw them both to their knees.

"Dammit, Matthews. Now is not the time for heroics." He crawled forward, grabbing her by the shoulders. "I don't give a shit about your job. I am not so important that you have to die in the process."

The intensity of his silver gaze and his words melted Aerie further. She raised her hands and gently cupped his soot-covered face. "I'm not doing this because of my job, Draco," she said softly. "I'm doing this because I want to."

His eyebrows dipped in confusion. "Why would you want to protect me? I'm a fucking coward who has done nothing worth commending. I led the Death Eaters into the school last year and nearly killed Dumbledore. Don't you understand? I'm an evil person, Johnny. You should have nothing to do with me. Go save yourself and live with sunshine and rainbows before I get so frustrated with you that I hex you into unconsciousness just to keep your ass in here."

Aerie smiled. "Then let me make it short and simple. I love you."

Draco froze, eyes wide in disbelief, jaw dropping. Aerie took a small pleasure at shutting up the wise-ass for once. The relief she felt at finally telling him how she loved him opened the floodgates to her emotions. She closed his mouth and continued.

"That is the reason behind my motives now, Draco. I love you. I don't care what you have to say about it. I don't care if you love me in return. Right now all I care about is getting the man I fell in love with to safety, knowing that my skills are the only way to make that happen. So we either stand here with you gaping at me like a fish, or you let me put protection spells on you before I disappear again. This time, I don't know how long it will take me to get back."

She gently detached his hands from her shoulders and stood up, pulling him with her. He was still staring at her in blank shock, his normally carefully cultivated sneer completely gone. She gave him a moment to collect himself, but after two or three minutes and he still had not moved, she sighed, pulling out her wand. With two flicks, she cast two protection charms. Walking behind him, she cast two more.

"These will work on any spell thrown at you except those shot at close range. Don't dance with any Death Eaters or you may end up kissing the floor permanently."

She came back around to his front, finding him staring at the floor in a daze.

"You had better snap out of it, honey," she smiled slightly. "There's a war going on."

His eyes came abruptly to hers. "You are a fool, Aeridia."

Aerie chuckled. "All kinds of fool. I'm well aware. I just _had_ to fall for the tortured soul." She shook her head to stop his response just as the school shook again, tossing them away in opposite directions. Aerie's already sore back collided with a desk and she hissed in pain. Draco had been thrown back against a bookshelf, and the books shook off and fell on top of him. With a groan, both slowly got back to their feet.

"Listen," Aerie huffed, "You and I will have plenty of time to argue about this later. But right now, we have to fight. I have to fight against the Death Eaters, and you have to fight to just stay alive. I know what side you're on, but they don't. Keep your head down; you don't have to tell me you're scared. I know you are. I am, too. I cracked a couple of Death Eater skulls earlier and it's taking every ounce of my willpower to keep myself together. I don't like death, but in this situation, preferences are thrown aside for survival, and it's driving me so crazy that I'm about to break out into a fit of giggles at the inappropriate hilarity. I'm begging you now to survive, Draco. Just this once I need you to really listen to me. Just survive."

She felt the tug of transportation. She quickly pushed his chest. "Be the Master Slytherin I know you are, Lysander; don't be too big of a pansy. I will be back as soon as I can escape." And she was gone again.

With a growl of frustration followed by a deep breath to hold in the tears, Aerie sat on the chaise lounge across from her mother. "Tell me whatever it is that you need to tell me and send me back. I am getting increasingly pissed by your sudden meddling at the most inconvenient time."

The woman smiled. "Certainly, Daughter."

"My name is Aerie," she snapped. "Is there an easier name that I can mentally curse you with?"

"Dah'lia," the elf replied. "Is that what the American named you?"

"You mean my father, who raised me and loved me and taught me the value of family connection? Yes, that would be him." Aerie huffed slightly.

"Oh dear," Dah'lia sighed, doing very well at not rising to the barbed responses. "I am going to have to rewrite everything that you know about your own history."

Aerie glared at her and said with heavy irony. "Not that you haven't already done that, with your appearance and statement about being my mother, or that my uncle is actually my father."

"The woman who has been your mother believes with every fiber of her being that you are her daughter. The story about the love affair with a strange man is all true. You are _not_ the product of that affair."

"What did you do to the girl?" Aerie demanded. "Make her a slave to your kind like we did with yours?"

Dah'lia waved her question away and flicked her red hair over her shoulder all in one graceful movement. "I will get to that momentarily. But, no, she is not a slave, nor is _my_ race slaves to anyone. Your real father, Fornax Greengrass, and I had a dalliance some years ago around the time he married his current wife, Juno Halifax. They had a little girl named Daphne, the same age as the daughter born of Cassiopeia named Astoria. Communication between the families was terminated at the birth of the disgraced Greengrass daughter and the grieving Fornax at the loss of his sister led him to me. We met under circumstances not relevant and continued our acquaintance until I discovered that I was with child."

Dah'lia's face glowed with maternal pride. "You have to understand that for my race, pregnancy is rare. The moment I found out, I immediately argued for Fornax to come with me. Leave his wife and come to Glory to live out our child being born. Our people require a child to be raised with the combined protection of a mother and father. If not, the elf is cast out. I could not have this, but he would not hear of it. I pleaded, I begged, I humiliated myself to a man who was beholden to his rules more so than I. When none of this worked, I began to plan. To allow my child to be born and raised in a loving family without ridicule, knowing that I could not provide it by being exiled, was something I would use my powers for to my advantage."

Aerie was riveted. She could see all of this easily in her mind's eye. A mother would do anything to save her child. Her job at the bequest of Narcissa Malfoy was the perfect example of this.

"I gave Fornax's wife the illusion that she was pregnant again, keeping her on my same cycle. When I went into labor, I gave myself the image of his wife and the midwife delivered you, thinking I was Juno. Once you were born and Fornax named you Astoria, I went into the next part of my plan. Fornax and Juno already believed they had a child, but I did not want you exposed to the kind of family they provided. So I switched you with the Astoria born of Cassiopeia and the American. A little mind altering about the rate of growth and all was well. Fornax and Juno could raise the little girl in whatever pureblood way they wanted, but I would have my daughter raised with the love that I had observed at the Matthews' home."

Dah'lia paused, searching Aerie's face for a reaction. Aerie was reeling from the tale. For a moment, minutes, or hours they sat there, Aerie was not sure. She attempted to wrap her brain around the concept that her whole life had been a lie. A rather creative one, but a lie nonetheless. So she was sixteen, born of Fornax Greengrass and Dah'liandri-Ahra and switched places with the eighteen-year-old daughter of Cassiopeia and some mystery man. Wonderful. Fucking fantastic. _Bloody_ brilliant.

"So what is my real name?" Aerie finally asked.

"Your name is the same as that which you go by, my darling Astoria," Dah'lia replied. "It was one of the alterations of the mind that I inflicted. However, your last name is Greengrass. Not Matthews. If you decide that Aeridia is the name you prefer, I have no say in stopping you."

"And the other Astoria?"

"What about her?"

"What happens now? What do you plan to do now that you've told me? Do you alter her memories so that she believes she is the daughter of my parents?"

"Oh, my dear," Dah'lia answered and smiled brilliantly, "I do not plan to do a single thing! My only plan was to tell you the truth. It is your decision what you wish to do with it."

Aerie sat up straighter. "Then for now I wish to do nothing about this. What I want is for you to send me back to Hogwarts. If you will give me time to absorb all of this, I will contact you when I wish to talk further."

This appeared to not to be the answer Dah'lia was waiting for. "Astoria—"

"Please," Aerie said simply, her eyes dropping to her lap, her mind threatening to be overwhelmed. Her brain had already put the odd pieces from her picture-less puzzle together and she understood more about herself in the past few moments with Dah'lia than she had in her entire life with her family. She now understood why she was able to retain the knowledge of ancient runes, why she could use wandless magic, and why she could Apparate wherever she wanted to, no matter how warded the building (with the exception of the Room of Requirement, for some reason). House elves were capable of the last two things; so it would make sense that a "higher" race of elf was able to accomplish them as well.

A moment's silence and then Dah'lia replied, "Very well. You may go. When you decide that you wish to communicate, use this." She came forward and pressed a simple necklace of cobalt blue beads and a strange silver charm into Aerie's hand. "Push the pendant and say my name. I will appear shortly thereafter."

Aerie nodded, not looking up to meet her mother's eyes, and Disapparated.

She now stood at the top of a set of stairs, overlooking the Hogwarts' Entrance. No Death Eaters were present, having retreated to stand in a long line at the edge of the grounds, which she noticed through a hole in the wall. Students were carrying in the dead into the Great Hall.

"An hour of reprieve," Draco's voice came beside her. "We're down to twenty minutes."

She looked up at him and saw a smear of blood on his chin. "What happened? Is that your blood?"

He sneered. "Weasley can't land a proper punch to save his life."

His aura pulsed green with gratitude. Aerie smirked, looking away. "He saved yours though. What; you couldn't avoid the Death Eaters long enough for me to get back? Who was going to kill you before Ron came in?"

"It doesn't matter," he snapped, "I could have gotten out of it without Weasel's help. Made a bloody fool out of me's what he did."

Aerie nodded wryly. "Oh, of course."

They both lapsed into silence, watching the students and teachers slowly file into the Great Hall. Aerie turned away first, horror writhing through her at the sight of the dead and dying.

"Keep your nose down, Lysander," she muttered, grabbing his arm as she walked away. "If anyone asks, I'm holding you under surveillance until this is all over."

"I don't need a bloody babysitter, Matthews," he retorted instantly.

With a sigh, she pushed him against a stone dais, where the back of his knees connected and he sat with a thump. She plopped down next to him, "Contrary to your devil-may-care attitude to the situation, I know it's affecting you. I _know,_ and you _know _that I _know_." She twiddled her fingers around him to indicate his aura. She leaned back on the wall, propping her arms on her bent knees and surveyed his blank stare. "Oh, stop it, Draco. You need a babysitter because it's the only way someone won't kill you on sight while you're in Hogwarts. Even if you were out with the Death Eaters, I don't think you would fare so well, seeing as how you're backing out. I'll tie you up, if you think that will help."

"Kinky."

"Shove off."

"You suggested it. Wouldn't bother me."

"Grow up."

"Lighten up."

"Fuck you."

"That's what I'm suggesting." He smirked.

She glared. "No, but I _will_ help you get through the battle and the ramifications."

His eyes focused on hers. "Why does it have to be you? What gives you the authority to help me through this when you're so conflicted that you couldn't even be Sorted?"

Aerie's temper flared, her mind instantly connecting to her conversations with her "mother elf." The idea just seemed so science-fiction. She knew at that moment why she had not been Sorted, just as the words the Sorting Hat had murmured in her ear came back to her. _I never thought I would see the day that your family would return to England._ The Hat had not meant the _Matthews_ family. Not at all. Elves of her mother's kind had not been seen in England for millennia, after all. "You have no fucking clue, Malfoy," she spat, calling him by his last name for the first time since the day they met. "Don't presume to criticize me when you don't know a thing about me."

Draco blinked at her in surprise. After a moment, he turned slowly toward her, scowl firmly in place. "I don't know you?" he started with equal deliberate slowness. "How can I not have a 'fucking clue' about you when I have been forced to live with your extroverted personality in close living quarters for months? You're stubborn as hell, deceitful as any Slytherin, and so bloody brilliant that you could outwit Mudblood Granger on her best day."

"You're shouting compliments at me? Stop the presses! Draco Malfoy is being nice under insulting pretenses!" Aerie glared at him. "Those are things anyone can notice. You and I have been intentionally not associating with one another because of the impression it would give your 'friends.' So I don't see how you could possibly know something about me that is different than common knowledge. You fail at proving that you truly know me."

"Do your friends know that when you're thinking you bite your left thumbnail?" he immediately shot back. "Do your friends _know_ that when you stare out a window you start to hum Beethoven's 'Ecossaise'? Do your _friends_ _know_ that you make coffee every day, not to drink it, but because you like the smell? Do your friends—"

"Why the hell do you care about those things?" Aerie sat in wondered shock, utterly flabbergasted at his explosion to prove her wrong.

"I don't know!" he shouted, running a hand through his hair. He looked at her in quick alarm. "I mean I don't care. I can't help noticing these things because they annoy me. It's because of such things that I know you better than your friends. That does not mean that I care."

She nodded absentmindedly, still staring at him. Her love for him increased. She quickly masked the emotion and gave him a sardonic grin. "There is some hope in you yet, Draco. A decent human being is starting to crawl out. Better be careful, don't let the emotions overwhelm you."

"Like you're any better," he replied.

Aerie huffed, "I'm a good girl."

"Oh, of course," he drawled wryly. "I play pretend, too."

She had to resist sticking her tongue out at him. Before she could shoot a response back, a deeply sinister voice rose above the air, sending chills of horror down Aerie's spine.

"_Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."_

Aerie and Draco looked wildly at each other in dismay before both rushed back to the hole in the wall overlooking the grounds. Death Eaters lined the lawn and a single figure stood at the front, white head gleaming in the moonlight, a black lump at his feet. Draco hissed in undisguised fear beside her. Aerie's heart plummeted, her own fear coming back in full force as Voldemort continued.

"_The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."_

Instantly, people rushed from the castle and stood on the grass, screams of denial ripping through the night as everyone caught sight of Harry Potter dead at the feet of Lord Voldemort. He attempted to quell the crowd but succeeded in only momentarily quieting the voices before they rose again. Aerie grabbed Draco's arm as he tried to pull away. No matter how hard this was for him (or her for that matter), they would watch.

Neville Longbottom, who had disappeared weeks ago from school, charged forward and was spelled down. The conversation between him and Voldemort did not carry far enough to the castle, but the resulting shout of "Dumbledore's Army!" from the crowd rushed over them.

A window crashed above Aerie and Draco's head and they both ducked instinctively. Whatever it was flew toward Neville and landed on his head. Voldemort's voice rose again.

"_Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me."_ And Neville's head burst into flame.

Everything erupted. Curses instantly flew in every direction as the Death Eaters rushed forward and hundreds of people stormed the grounds from off site. Parents and families from Hogsmeade and elsewhere were showing up to help defend their loved ones. A Stunning spell ricocheted off the stones near Aerie's head and Draco pulled her back.

"Let's get out of here," he said, pulling her away. But it was too late, the battle was moving inside as Death Eaters pushed everyone back. Aerie threw a well-aimed curse down into the melee and knocked a masked man aside.

"Quit fighting!" Draco yelled at her, still trying to get her away.

"Quit running!" she shouted back, yanking her arm from his grasp. "You want to make a difference? Do something! This isn't over just because Harry Potter is dead!" She launched another hex down to the fighters, taking a step down the stairs.

"Draco!" Narcissa Malfoy's voice shrieked over the sounds of battle. With a speed Aerie had not known the woman possessed, Narcissa flew up the staircase and barreled into her son, carrying him around the corner.

Aerie almost smirked if the situation had not been so serious. It was at that moment that she realized Lucius Malfoy had also ascended the stairs and was skirting around her. She blocked a curse coming at her from below almost absentmindedly as her whole attention averted to the disgusting man.

With a flick of her wand she cast a Disillusionment Spell across the four of them and retrained it at the man's neck. He raised his hands in defeat.

"I am unarmed," he croaked.

Aerie glared. "That shouldn't stop me, you fucking sex-crazed, manipulative, cowardly pureblood!"

His eyes narrowed, looking remarkably like Draco. "Your offense seems personal. Do I know you?"

Aerie gave him a chilling smile. "No, we haven't had the misfortune."

Narcissa's cold voice cut through, "Lucius, sit your arse down and don't give the girl a reason to curse you. Her patience is wearing thin, as are mine and Draco's. One more word and I will have no qualm with her killing you."

Lucius' jaw dropped as he turned on Narcissa. "I beg your pardon?"

Draco was the one who answered, "She said 'sit down,' I believe. _Father_." The title sounded like a curse.

Lucius stepped back as if he had actually been hit by one.

From below, Aerie heard the cries of "Harry? Harry's alive!"

Her spirits soared. Harry was alive! How the hell was that even possible? So riveted by the inkling that hope could be restored, she did not notice Lucius turn back to her before it was too late. He snatched her wand and pointed it back at her.

She raised a brow at his exultant expression. "Taking my wand doesn't give you the upper hand, Lucius. It certainly does not make you better than me now."

"It gives me the advantage," he retorted, flinging an unvoiced curse at her.

Aerie raised her hands in front of her and repelled the curse. All three Malfoys gasped. She smiled vindictively and took a step toward him; he instantly stepped back down the hall and away from his wife and son. "I've always loved my little tricks. Now, Lucius, give me back my wand before you hurt yourself with it."

"Don't you dare talk down to me that way!" he roared, throwing another curse and backing up further.

Just as easily, Aerie deflected it and walked forward. "You are in no position to patronize me, _Lord _Malfoy. You dragged your wife and child into this mess and condemned them to a life of horror and death and you are getting mad at _me_? I find that to be a little hypocritical."

With a frenzied expression, Lucius shot two hexes at her. She absorbed them, shooting them back at the ground near his feet and making him jump back.

"Don't pretend to understand my motivations!" he yelled, starting to throw hex after hex toward her.

"Oh, it wasn't to get your family killed and fuck a girl your son's age?" she asked sweetly, flicking away each shot.

With a strangled roar, the man launched four spells at her in quick succession. With a swipe in front of her, a clear shield formed and sucked up the curses, and with a push, she threw them into the wall. It exploded outward, shearing through the stone onto the grounds beyond. Aerie whistled sarcastically, catching Lucius' horrified eyes. "That could have hurt me, Mr. Malfoy."

"What are you?" he murmured.

"I'm the one asking the questions here, you sick pedophile," she hissed. "What were you thinking as you went into the Dark Lord's service? Think you would receive glory? More power? More riches? Need I remind you that you had quite enough of that without being an underhanded, traitorous twit?"

"Matthews," Draco's voice came strained behind her. She felt his anger toward his father rolling even from twenty feet between them. "We know his problem. Don't push him just to get the answers. Shut him up."

Aerie gave Lucius her coldest grins, making his pallid complexion worsen. "You heard your son. It's time to shut up." She snapped her fingers and her wand whipped out of his hands, flying over the distance to land in her outstretched palm. Aerie maliciously loved toying with the corrupt man and having him realize that she had been in complete control during their entire encounter. With a cut through the air, Lucius' arms bound together behind him and a gag was stuffed in his mouth. She walked forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his wife and son and took Draco's arm in the other hand. Narcissa already had a vice grip on Draco's other arm.

"We are going down there to find out the end of this," she said.

Closing her eyes, she Apparated them into the Great Hall.

They appeared in a far corner and instantly, Aerie shoved Lucius to the ground, placing an Immobilous charm on him. Narcissa caught her eye and nodded, but all eyes were on the pair in the center of the room, slowly circling one another, drawing the newcomers' eyes there as well.

The air of suspense was palpable as Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort paced, Voldemort looking furious and Harry appearing amused.

"_The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."_

Aerie choked on her gasp as her eyes whipped to Draco standing beside her. His jaw had dropped.

Voldemort replied, _"But what does it matter? Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone…and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…."_

Aerie grabbed Draco's arm, fearing the dripping promise of death from the man in the center of the room.

"_But you're too late," said Harry. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."_

Aerie recognized the twist of the hawthorn wand in Harry's grasp and felt Draco's hand come up to grip hers around his arm.

"_So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does…I am the true master of the Elder Wand."_

_A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort's was suddenly a flaming blur. _With a shriek both yelled:

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

"_Expelliarmus!_"

_The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. The Elder Wand flew high, dark against the sunrise, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell._

Everyone stared for a moment in silence before the crowd exploded in multitude of cheers, rushing forward at the hero. Aerie stared, unbelieving, as the cause to the living hell of the wizarding world was quickly removed to rot in another room and the celebration began. The tables were moved back and everyone crowded the seats, no longer sitting with accordance to House. Aerie trudged forward, collapsing in a seat, feeling Draco and Narcissa sitting beside her, both equally as silent. Lucius awkwardly sat with them. Aerie waved the gag and bounds away.

"No more a threat, Lucius," she said absentmindedly. The reality was beginning to sink in and her heart soared. "It's over."

She turned to Draco and saw him slumped on the table, his aura weary, but happy. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's over," she repeated.

She looked up at the crowd as it cheered, screamed, and bounded around, and was content with sitting where she was, away from it all. Too much overzealousness for her.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention though, and she saw a few Death Eaters attempting to creep from the Hall. She got up silently and followed, giving Draco a smile at his confused glance as she went. She made it out the door and came up behind the quickly retreating figures.

"Leaving so soon?" she inquired, causing them to freeze.

All four turned back as one.

Aerie stood her ground, cocky in her knowledge of their defeat after the death of their master. "I don't think leaving the party so early is polite."

Their eyes glanced behind her, looking for others in the shadows of the otherwise empty corridor.

"It ain't exactly in our best interest t'stay," one of them burred, pulling out his wand. The other three followed suit, all realizing that she was alone.

_Good_, she thought_, I need to burn off some energy_.

This would prove to be a mistake.

As the curses began to fly and Aerie blocked and shot an equal number in return, she quickly began to see that these Death Eaters had skill. More so than the ones she had fought previously. Their shots were aimed better, they were quicker, and the quality of spell was beyond good. She was not recognizing several of the spells intended to harm her. None of them were the Killing Curse, but the intent seemed to be similar. This was deep and dark magic, and Aerie was no longer on the offensive, but was trying desperately to defend herself with ever decreasing efficiency.

Her protection spells were disintegrating almost as soon as she erected them and she gave up all attempts at shooting hexes and focused on protection. As soon as she did, three of the Death Eaters ran off, and the one that had spoken before remained, the most skilled of the four, to finish her off.

"I been wantin' to try this spell out, deary," the man hissed. "An' what better time to do 'at than now? 'Ope you enjoy this. 'Tis worse than death, it is."

"Let me have the pleasure, Wendlaritz," Aerie heard Lucius' voice behind her.

"Father, no!" Draco's voice shouted.

Aerie turned, her eyes connecting with Lucius' just as the spell from a wand that he acquired exploded through all of Aerie's barriers, plunging her into a pain worse than a hundred _Cruciatus_ curses. In the split second between the issuance of the spell and its connection with her, Aerie had recognized the dark magic that she had always feared would get into the enemy's hands. She had dubbed them "The Unspeakable Spells"; spells that were worse than the Unforgivable Curses because of their intensity. Death would be a blessing from spells such as these. This one had feared her the most and it was called "Unmaking." It essentially broke down every component of your body as it worked its way through, piece by excruciating piece.

That horrifying thought was all she reflected before she could think no more. Her insides boiled, a bone cracking in half in her foot every few seconds. She fell to her knees instantly and heard screaming, neither knowing nor caring if she were the one shrieking. As the broken bones travelled their way up her body, her muscles ripped and melted in the intense heat of the pain writhing through her. Aerie shut down, wanting to die, but being unable to escape from the white blaze of torture to the black bliss of unconsciousness. Her body arched back as her pelvis cracked apart, and this time, she was sure it was her screams ripping through the air.

She lost awareness of time. She only knew pain. Hands on her arms caused more fire; words over her head seared her brain, her vertebrae snapped, one by one.

Ice ripped through her lungs as her ribs fractured and blissfully, thankfully, wonderfully, she slipped into blackness.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_It was July 15, 1986; the day that started the rest of my life and I was six again, standing in the foyer of my family home in my best summer dress with the red sash and the white shoes that hurt my feet. My mother and father were standing behind me, talking quietly until the door opened. The first impression I had of the two men as they walked in was how tall they were—I did not even come up to the waist of the shorter one. Both stopped within a few feet of me and the man in black robes stood aside as the old man with the long silver beard and glasses took an extra step and knelt before me._

_ His blue eyes immediately grabbed and pierced through me, invading my thoughts with a sharp push. I could feel him attempting to read my memories and with a wince, I forced him out. Slapping a hand to my forehead, I exclaimed indignantly, "Ouch, that hurt!" I glared at him, rubbing my temples. "How rude!"_

_The man sat back with controlled shock, then laughed delightedly. "How extraordinary." He looked up at Mum and Dad. "She is remarkable for so young a girl." He turned back to me, as I beamed at the praise. "I am Uncle Albus, child."_

_With a confused glance at my parents, I followed the two men into the grand parlor, where the greasy man who did not seem to know how to smile took his turn to kneel before me. My parents left us and went to the private parlor._

_With a small twitch of his lips, he gave me a small smile. It was a sorry attempt, solidifying my belief that he did not practice such a gesture very much. "I am Severus Snape, Astoria."_

"_Uncle Severus," Uncle Albus interjected lightly._

_The frustration I felt whenever someone used my first name bubbled to the surface and I crossed my arms with a huff. "My name is Aeridia. That's what Daddy calls me." But curiosity as to appearance of these "uncles" made me get over the irritation quickly. "I didn't know that you are family," I said almost immediately with clear indignation._

_Uncle Severus bowed his head in acceptance and responded to my first outburst, "Aeridia it is, then." He attempted to smile again, and again he failed. I was going to have to work with him on that. He then answered my second comment. "We are old family friends, not relatives. Do you know why we are here today?"_

_Shame filled me instantly. "Is it because I can see fuzzy shapes around people?"_

"_Describe these shapes," Uncle Albus demanded gently, coming to stand behind me._

"_Well, everyone has one," I said, looking up at him and inspecting the haze around him, "Yours is a soft blue and it just kind of wraps around you."_

"_Does it obscure your view of him?" Uncle Severus inquired._

_I shook my head. "No, it doesn't. Your color is green, Uncle Sevus." I frowned; I had meant to say Uncle Severus, but that name was difficult to pronounce. I continued as if I had not made the blunder. "And there are strings from the shapes that sometimes stretch to another person."_

"_How so?" Uncle Albus asked._

_I pointed in the direction my parents had taken out of the room. "Mum and Daddy are connected by a lot of strings. It stretches across the house when they're not in the same room together, but when Daddy goes to work, the strings drop. Mum and I are tied together, too, but it's different than me and Daddy." Ever since I was little, I knew that Daddy and I were not actually the same. He still loved me, but he was not my daddy. Mum and I were tied the way a mother and daughter were supposed to be. Yet even then, compared to other mother and daughter ties that I had seen, those ties were a little different too. I figured our bond was just special._

"_Ties with family and loved ones," Uncle Albus smiled, pulling me back to the talk they were having with me._

_The questions continued until finally my new-found uncles (whom I liked rather quickly as the day went on) ceased the discussion sometime after dinner. I was so tired from talking—I had never said so much in my life!—that I was falling asleep at the dinner table._

"_We will be back next week, Corvus," Uncle Albus said at the door, then knelt down to my level. I was immediately awake. Placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, he said to me, "My dear, there is much that your Uncle Severus and I mean to teach you. Talking with you today has shown us that you have an extraordinary gift and are unbelievably well-spoken for so young a person. We intend to develop all of this and make you a profoundly powerful witch. Do you think you can handle that?"_

_Eyes wide, I nodded emphatically. A profoundly powerful witch? I could handle that!_

_Seeing my excitement, he smiled and patted me softly on the head. "Of course you can, Astoria. Be a good girl for your parents, and we will see you next week."_

_He stood; with a twist in the air, both he and Uncle Severus were gone. I turned to my parents. "I'm powerful?" I asked in wonder, "Do they really think so?"_

_My mother came forward and swept me into a hug. Compassionately, she chided, "Don't let that power corrupt you, darling."_

_I stared at her in confusion. "Power is meant to help people, Mum. 'Corrupt' sounds like a bad word. This power won't hurt me, will it?"_

_My father gently pulled me from my mum's arms. "She doesn't quite understand that concept, Cassie," he said, also hugging me. "But you will be a good girl always," he whispered softly to me. "And you won't be corrupt. Power is only as bad as you let it be."_

_I nodded solemnly. "Then I will always be a good girl, Daddy."_

_June 9, 1991, the day before my eleventh birthday, I was sitting in my favorite swing in my personal garden at home. Flicking a hand at the rope, I made the swing begin to rock itself back and forth. I was old enough to appreciate Dumbledore's removal of the Trace and the effect it had taken on my life. Yet other more bothersome thoughts rushed through my mind. Gently swaying with the breeze, I stared at the sky dejectedly. What was the point of being friendly with people when none of them could or would be your friends? Between my homework and the lessons with Uncle Albus and Uncle Sevus, I had no time to build friendships with kids my age. And though none of them would say it, they all seemed to be afraid of me. But why? I was just like them. My birthday was tomorrow, and there was not one single child that I was able to ask to come play. No one would want to, anyway._

_Attempting to hold back my tears, I stopped the swing and sat up._

"_So here is where the birthday girl is hiding," a voice said from up the path._

_Uncle Sevus walked down the trail, his black robes catching the wind and swelling around him. I gave him a small smile as he sat beside me._

"_Good afternoon, Uncle Sevus," I said softly, and sat a little straighter, chin high. "And I'm not hiding."_

"_Of course you're not," he drawled lazily, "Just sitting in a secluded spot in depression. I may not be able to read auras, but you are projecting all the way to the house. You are worrying your mother."_

_I gave him an unemotional glare, and then fell back on the swing. The great comfort of Uncle Sevus came from his ability to not need much immediate explanation. So the two of us sat there in a companionable silence for a half hour before I finally sighed. His prolonged silence always made me willing to talk._

"_I don't have any friends," I sniffled. "I know so many people and I like them all, but I don't know any of them well enough to talk to about anything besides the weather. I don't have someone whom I can tell secrets to, or have slumber parties with. And I think they're all scared of me."_

"_I'm rather surprised that you have not mentioned this before, Aeridia," Uncle Sevus said lightly._

"_It never really bothers me until my birthday comes around," I replied in all honesty. It was true; I was always too busy having fun learning new spells and reading ancient texts to really think about friends until the break before my birthday on June tenth, and all the kids came home from boarding school for the summer right after it._

"_And it should not bother you now," he said._

_I glanced up at him in confusion, having been lost in my thoughts._

"_You have a gift that no one would truly understand. Your purpose in life is to be the protector. All of those children that will be heading to school this fall have only held a wand for a year, can barely read a magic book, and never will learn wandless magic."_

"_But I've done all those things for a long time," I smiled weakly, sitting up and kicking the dirt with the toe of my shoe._

"_Precisely," he continued, "You must understand that your circumstances place you in a different world than theirs. To be upset because the other children have not caught up is a little unfair."_

"_But just one person!" I exclaimed. "I just want one person to talk to about girly, fun, stupid things!"_

_Uncle Sevus leveled his black gaze at me. "No, you don't, Aeridia. You have never once conducted a 'stupid' conversation in your life. You will find, believe me, that there is not one single person your age who can handle the maturity that you bring forth. Count your blessings that you have not had to deal with the imbeciles of your generation. I can assure you that your class level—these upcoming first years—at my school at Hogwarts does not equal your intelligence."_

_I blinked in shock. "Really? I thought there were some pretty smart people my age when my family and I visited during the last few years." I was thinking of redheaded Ginny Weasley whom I met two years ago at the Ministry. She was a year younger than me and very friendly so we started to communicate through letters and I would pop by some afternoons to play outside. I had to edit the letters profusely to not talk about the majority of the course of my life (which was difficult, I will admit, but one had to make sacrifices to have a friend). It was wearisome._

_He scoffed, "That Weasley girl does not warrant the effort you give for those letters."  
I frowned. "But she's nice."_

"_She may be, but you have not been able to write with abandon in any of your correspondence. They are superficial conversations." He had hit the nail on the head of the problem._

"_It's nice just to be able to talk with someone," I sighed, not wanting to give up. _

"_Of course, Aeridia," he replied meekly, "but keep in mind the gravity of the situation. Your abilities are not ever to be spoken about. You know that. Just be careful."_

"_I always am, Uncle Sevus," I said, "I know that no one will understand."_

"_I do, your parents do, and Uncle Albus certainly does," he gently stated, placing a hand on her head. "That's more than most. Don't let this affect your happiness. Your smile is something I look forward to, Aeridia."_

_That gave me untold amounts of content. I _did_ know that I made him smile (he was finally starting to do so without looking like something had died under his nose). With a brilliant smile to make him happy, I leapt up, grabbed his hand, and pulled him out of the garden. "We should stop moping, Uncle Sevus. It's almost my birthday!"_

_With determination, I put away my sadness. There was no reason to bring down the world when I had such a wonderful family who loved me and were teaching me to be the greatest protector in the history of wizardry. They were shaping me into a hero. No one would know about it, but then again, heroes did not look for recognition. I could do this. A hero has to walk alone most of the time, but I was fortunate to have had a strong support system at my back that did not waver from me. I could not ask for more._

_It was the end of August in 1996; I was sixteen. Uncle Albus had just showed up by himself to finally talk with me about my new job! _

"_I finally get to be a protector?" Excitement surged through me uncontrollably. "Who is it? What do I have to do? When do I start?" I exclaimed as I bounded up to him and hugged him the moment he walked through the door._

_He laughed. "Calm down, Astoria. Let me come inside. Look at the contract while I settle in with a glass of pumpkin juice." With a wave of his wand, he conjured a glass of the beverage and handed me a rolled piece of parchment tied with an emerald ribbon. _

_Without hesitation, I flicked my wrist and the contract unfurled in the air before me. I scanned it quickly. The terms and conditions were very short, and the document was signed with a flourish at the bottom. I did not absorb a single word during the first skim due to my excitement and had to begin it again._

"_Narcissa Malfoy wants you to protect her son, Draco, from any and all misfortune upon the completion—or incompletion, depending—of his duty to the Dark Lord, by any means necessary," Uncle Albus summarized succinctly._

_I nodded emphatically, reading that for myself on the second perusal. "Consider it done. I'm ready for this. But when is his duty complete?"_

"_When I am dead," he replied with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes and finished off the pumpkin juice._

_My heart stopped. "That's not funny, Uncle Albus."_

"_It is the truth," he said, "I am dying at any rate. I already told you about the ring." He pulled out a blackened hand from his robes and held it aloft. I cringed at his dead digits._

_I looked away. "Tom Riddle's ring that he cursed and you put it on anyway? You can't die from that because Uncle Sevus is making you a potion to fix the problem."_

"_Do not underestimate Tom Riddle's expertise in curses," Uncle Albus warned._

"_Do not underestimate Severus Snape's expertise in potions," I shot back instantly._

_He laughed. "I never do. But here is one instance that he and I both know that there is nothing to be done for this. I was foolish and will now pay the consequences. Do not worry, Astoria. You and I have about another year in which to teach you. But consider yourself warned, and I beg you to not let my death hinder your first job. You will be fine. In fact, this job will prove to change your life."_

"_Of course it will," I interjected, "It's my first job. Nothing will affect me more."_

"_I am referring to something more than that. You have been raised for this. And all of your expectations will come true, I can promise you that."_

"_One of which is that you will be there to see me complete it with flying colors," I challenged with my own stubborn conviction._

_He shook his head. "That will be one expectation that will not prove true. For which I apologize. I have taught you well, and you will need neither me nor Severus to succeed."_

"_I will prove you wrong, Uncle Albus," I answered intently._

"_You would go beyond even my expectations if you do, Astoria." He smiled. "Now, show me to the Dining Hall. I smell your mother's pickled herring, and I must say that it always tickles my appetite, no matter how much I eat before I arrive."_

_I led him away, grabbing his uninjured hand in a vice grip. I would prove him wrong. I owed this man much for the way my life was blossoming. For the time being, all the excitement for my first job was overshadowed by my personal emotions, something I was raised to try and control._

_June 10, 1997, and Uncle Sevus was here! He had said that he was not going to be able to make it for my seventeenth birthday, yet my wards on the house just sounded that he arrived. He must have been trying to surprise me. With a joyous laugh, I Apparated downstairs to where Uncle Sevus was talking quietly with my parents and I froze upon seeing his aura oozing black around him. I peered closer; in the black, Uncle Albus's face appeared, a wand outstretched and green lighting up._

"_No," I whispered in horror, eyes wide._

_The three at the door turned to me._

"_I thought he was lying," I murmured, tears welling up and spilling down my face, completely unbidden._

_In three strides, Uncle Sevus grabbed me in a rare, tight hug. "I'm sorry, Astoria," his deep voice cracked in another rare moment of vulnerability. "I had no choice."_

_Knowing vaguely what had happened in the brief projected glimpse from his aura, with a sob I wrapped my arms around him and broke down. "He told me months ago that he was dying!" I cried. "I didn't believe him! He can't have died! No!"_

_Without a word, Uncle Sevus comforted me until I had calmed down enough to talk. My mind was still reeling from the knowledge that my oldest mentor (besides Uncle Sevus) was gone. I let go of my still very much alive uncle fifteen minutes later and sank down on the stairs behind me. Utilizing every bit of control I had learned through my training, I took several calming breaths and dashed away the tears._

"_What happened, Severus?" I questioned tightly, my emotions held back by a thread._

_I looked up at him and surveyed his ragged appearance that made him look ten years older. "It was too soon," he sighed heavily, his hands clenched in a death grip at his sides. "Draco Malfoy was charged with killing Albus by the Dark Lord to try and redeem his family. I was charged, by Narcissa and Albus, to do the killing. To save Draco from becoming a murderer at seventeen, and to save Albus from a humiliating death from the cursed ring, I had no choice but to do it."_

_I nodded, having come to that conclusion by reading his aura. I took another deep breath to clear the sudden tightening of my chest. "I should have believed him when he told me this would have to happen shortly after he tried on the ring," I said._

_Uncle Sevus nodded as well. "I'm sorry to be coming here to tell you all of this, Astoria. And on your birthday, too."_

"_When did it happen?"_

"_Two days ago."_

_The lump in my throat got worse. I coughed and said, "I have to be prepared for anything. You both taught me that. I guess that means that my job has begun?"_

"_Yes," he replied strongly, obviously relieved to have the conversation diverted. "You need to disappear and go to Draco Malfoy. He will be at the school and then he and his parents are going to a Black family residence for the summer. You will officially meet him at the beginning of the semester. I'm here to see you under way. Say farewell to your parents. Time is of the essence."_

_I stood without another word and went to my parents in the private parlor. I hugged and kissed them both. "It's begun," I said. "I love you."_

_My mother gasped and crushed me to her chest again. "Oh, so soon. Be safe, darling. Please. I don't know what I will do if something happened to you."_

"_Nothing will happen, Mum," I forced myself to smile. "No one _willsee_ me to do anything to me."_

"_That does not matter, Aerie," my father replied, hugging me again as well. "We love you, so stay safe."_

"_Always, Daddy," I smiled at him._

_With nothing left to be said, I left them and went back out to the grand foyer where Uncle Sevus was finishing the runes on the floor for my disappearance. I had practiced this spell before and loved the feeling of being insubstantial, but the thrill of it was diminished by the reason for it. Uncle Albus was gone. I took a calming breath and stepped up beside Uncle Sevus._

_I hugged him. "I'm not upset with you that you had to kill Albus, Uncle Sevus," I said softly. "You did what you had to do. Now it's my turn."_

_Uncle Sevus pulled away. "Be careful, Astoria Aeridia. You are just as important as the one you are protecting. I will see you in the fall."_

_I nodded, stepped into the circle of runes, and with a flash, disappeared from view but not from the house. When he was sure that he could not see me, Uncle Sevus nodded and left. I took one last look at him and my parents (who had come out of the parlor) and Disapparated to Hogwarts._

_My grief enveloped me once I set foot at Hogwarts where I had visited both of my uncles many times over in the past eleven years. Uncle Albus was gone. So immersed in my sorrow, I almost did not notice the boy standing beside me, staring morosely out a window._

_With a sniff, I put my feelings in a compartment in the back of my mind. Draco Malfoy, my charge for the next however many months until the Dark Lord either died or lost interest, was very handsome in a young way. I could see the man he would become in time and could almost see the broken hearts he would leave in his wake. Besides the future, I noted idly the dark circles under his eyes, tousled white blond hair, and ragged uniform and did not envy the struggle currently going on in his head; I would have plenty of time to work with that when school started. _

_With a quick flick of my wand, I threw as many protective spells and runes that I knew over him. Satisfied that my spells were well placed, I sketched three runes onto my arm: connection, levitation, and time, allowing me to float close to Draco without thinking about it until the end of the summer. I would now be able to grieve without interruption and I could renew my protection spells whenever I needed. I did not really have much interest in the job at the current moment but I could see the work cut out for me in the future. When he and I were the Heads of Hogwarts (and yes, I was well aware that he and I were going to be roommates), the happy accidents of getting to know one another would begin and I could be more effective. _

_I sighed and sat back on the air. I would grieve now, get back into gear when I was ready, and then learn everything there is to learn about my charge before I officially met him. Once that comforting thought was locked in my head, I let the compartment for my mourning open and let it swallow me. For now, I did not give a shit about this boy. Happy birthday to me, I thought with a sob._

_Two and a half months later I finally had a grip on reality and my emotions. The hole where Uncle Albus resided would always be empty, but now I could surround the hole with the hundreds of wonderful memories I had of him. I was ready to face my duty; and it was about time, too, because I only had a week left of being invisibly attached to my Charge (that's how I thought of him throughout the summer). I honestly could not recall what Draco Malfoy did to occupy his time at the Black family house in Austria, so lost in my own little world was I._

_I made a promise to observe and learn what I could about this boy before I had to leave him and actually meet him._

_What I saw surprised me. I thought I knew people, but I guess never really interacting with them made me a little inept. Draco Malfoy was really very caring as an individual. His cold and sarcastic exterior would not let you see that. But when he was alone (or thought he was, since I was always there), he would twitch his wand and solve any problem from the seclusion of his bedroom. _

_One instance showed me the depth of his love for his mother and his hate for his father. He had walked into the dining room to his parents arguing. Lucius was screaming at Narcissa for her incompetence and blatant disrespect for him as her husband in the face of having his wand taken by the Dark Lord. She shrieked with equal fervor, but could not finish her sentence when Lucius smacked her with the full amount of his force across the face, throwing her to the floor. Draco clenched his fists, but otherwise showed no emotion. Yet I could see the black anger pulse deeply in his aura._

_Lucius had turned to him at that moment and said, "You will walk right out of that door before I do worse to you, son." Then he reached down and picked Narcissa off the floor roughly and pushed her through the second entrance to the dining room and left._

_Draco immediately went to his room. I watched with interest as he pulled out a piece of parchment paper and quickly scrawled two lines._

"Crucio immedium. Obliviate._"_

_I was surprised again. I had not realized that Draco was aware of distance spells! By writing the spells he wanted to perform on a piece of parchment, he was able to put a spell on the paper itself so that the written words would take effect once the receiver read them. _

_With a flick, the folded parchment floated away and Draco sat on his bed, listening intently. The screams of pain came a moment later and lasted for ten minutes. No one but his family was in the house that day, so Draco had no fear of being reprimanded. When the screams stopped, his shoulders relaxed. Despite myself, I was rather impressed by his deviousness._

_I learned many more things during the next few days. He was a lover of art, particularly Impressionist painters (both Muggle and wizard); he enjoyed reading magic history books on the founders of Hogwarts; and when he was in deep thought (which was often), he would cross his arms and the middle finger of his left hand would tap four times, pause, then repeat._

_I never saw him smile, though I could not say that I blamed him. I was not doing much of that either. Overall, the week I was observant was good: I learned things about him as an individual that I would not have learned from a file. I could go into the real job with something to work with. _

_With that in mind, I left at the end of the week with big plans for mine and Draco Malfoy's first meeting._


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The black murkiness between sleeping and consciousness slowly receded as Aerie struggled to open eyelids that felt like weights were pulling them down. When she succeeded, with eyelids barely managing to stay up, she was startled to find herself in an unfamiliar room: blank, whitewash walls; one window with white shades drawn. She flopped her head to the right to see a drab bedside table with two glorious bouquets of red roses and pink gladiolus. Turning her head heavily to the other side, a strange beeping box floated above her head with a clear tube attaching to her left arm.

Her confusion magnified; where was she? Hospital? She attempted to sit up on the bed in which she was laying, and collapsed. Her arms were not working; her strength had failed. What was going on? What was the last thing she remembered? Her arms tingled unpleasantly, tiny needles piercing along her skin as they woke up. She slowly flexed her fingers.

It was in that instance that the door opened and a woman in Medi-wizard robes came in, eyeing some paperwork she had in her hand. She was fairly young, about early thirties, with straight blonde hair pulled up into the traditional Medi-wizard hat and gentle blue eyes.

"Excuse me," Aerie managed to croak. Her voice was not working well either.

The woman gasped and dropped her papers, but paid no heed to them as she stared at Aerie, her mouth open in shock.

"C-c-could you," she started, struggling with her words and tried slowly again. "Could you tell me where I am?" Aerie struggled to say.

Her question seemed to snap the woman out of her surprise, and she rushed forward, quickly inspecting Aerie's eyes, the floating box, and the tube in the girl's arm. "Oh, my dear! Oh, my _dear_, welcome back! I must say you gave me a shock to see you awake. We had all but lost hope in your ever returning to us. Your family will be most pleased: most pleased indeed." She pulled out her wand and lit the end of it. "Say 'Ahh'!"

Aerie did as she was told, her confusion mounting, as the woman—her nametag said "Kittirick"—inspected the back of her throat, her eyes, and ears. When she finished her examination, she smiled brilliantly at Aerie. "It is rather remarkable that you are so cognizant so soon after waking. Can you lift your arms for me?"

Aerie tried, albeit slowly and with effort while the tingles still needled her arms, then dropped them as they felt like dead weight only after lifting them a few inches. Kittirick nodded and went to pick up the fallen papers; she started writing on them once they were gathered.

"That is to be expected, though it is the only thing that appears to be expected. We will have to build your muscle mass back. "Wiggle your toes," she instructed, barely able to contain her excitement.

Aerie accomplished that with ease.

"Excellent. Fascinating. What is your name?"  
"Astoria Aeridia Greengrass Matthews," she answered slowly, her voice quickly gaining strength.

"Two plus two?"

"Four."

"Nine times nine?"

"Eighty-one."

"The proper spell for conjuring a bouquet of flowers?"

"Cute. _Orchideous_."

Kittirick snapped her files shut and stared at Aerie wonder. "No victim of a spelled coma has ever come out of it with such speedy effectiveness. This is remarkable. Your intellect is fully intact. Here is a more difficult question that is not on our list. What is the most efficient way to extract the mucus from the glands of horned frog?"

Aerie smiled. "Put the frog in a dry box for fifteen minutes then immobilize it. Collect the mucus. It is best used in healing salves for poisonous burns."

Kittirick beamed. "You are a miracle! You sit right there, Miss Matthews. I will send notification to your family. They should be here shortly and will be happy to see you. Your other visitor should be here within the hour so I won't alert him. Let's surprise him. I will be right back."

"Him?" Aerie asked as Kittirick began to sweep from the room. The only "him" she could think of would be Uncle Sevus.

Why was she in a hospital? Why had she been unconscious? She went back to her musings from before Kittirick interrupted. Last thing she could remember…oh. Everything came back to her in a swirl of fire and horror. The battle at Hogwarts. Voldemort was now dead; she had gone after a few escaping Death Eaters. The Unspeakable Spell of Unmaking that was cast by Lucius Malfoy had crippled her, but she should be dead because of it. Fire. Pain. Blistering agony. Cheers in the background. She shook her head to dispel the echo and flexed her fingers again and her toes in experimentation. She was all there; so someone had to have stopped the spell before its completion. She knew from her studies that interrupting the concentration of the person wielding the spell was the only way to stop a spell of that magnitude and instant medical assistance would have allowed her to live.

So she was alive.

_Obviously_, she muttered to herself in her head.

In one piece.

_Unexpectedly._ She looked at her legs under the blanket just to be sure they were there.

But how? How long had she been unconscious? Kittirick had said that everyone had given up hope. She looked down at herself for any indications of change and the first thing she found was her hair. Having grown roughly eight inches since she last remembered, she gaped stupidly at the curling ends. Holy shit, had she been out for a year? She struggled to lift her arm and fingered the ends of her hair. She felt again the drag of unused muscles and immediately forgot about the hair. Wonderful. She was like an overgrown baby.

"Aeridia?" a familiar deep voice gasped.

Aerie looked up in surprise, realizing that the voice did not belong to Uncle Sevus. "Draco?"

His cloak dropped from his fingers, forgotten instantly as he slowly walked forward, his face drinking her in like a man who had been denied water for years. Aerie, like the day she met him, was awestruck by his beauty. But there was something different; he was thinner, his face angled a little more sharply, and yet there was a maturity there that had not been present before. His gray eyes were wide, yet shadowed and his hair swept to the side and back off his face, slightly longer than she remembered as if he could not be bothered with a haircut.

"You're awake," he breathed, standing beside her bed, hands clenched at his sides, afraid to touch her.

"And you look half dead," she replied and coughed. That first one started a wave and she continued to cough, losing her breath suddenly.

Draco rushed out of the room and came back with a glass of water. When she drank it and calmed down, she attempted to speak again. Draco stopped her.

"After having just woken up, you should take it easy," he said softly, taking the glass from her hands, refilling it, and setting it on the bedside table.

"I don't want to take it easy," she huffed breathlessly. "I want to know what's going on. Why I'm alive, why I'm in the hospital, why you're here, and how long I've been out are the top questions in my head."

He smiled slightly in wonder, still staring at her. With a shake of his head, he grabbed a chair and sat on the left side of her bed. He took a deep breath.

"It's actually a miracle that you're alive," he admitted.

"How long have I been unconscious?" she demanded quickly, getting to the point.

Without needing to consult a calendar, Draco responded promptly, "Two years, four months, and three days. Today is September 5, 2000."

Her mental capabilities shut down. "Holy _fuck_!" she shrieked in horror before she could stop herself.

_Two years, two years, two _years_, _two YEARS! Those words replayed like a nightmarish mantra in her head. She did not hear anything that Draco said next until he grabbed her face.

"Calm down," he stated distinctly, staring at her intently when he caught her eye. "It's not a big deal how long you've been out. You're back now. Get it together, Johnny."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Draco let go of her face and sat down in the chair again.

"All right," Aerie said a second later, opening her eyes and meeting Draco's concerned silver ones. She was momentarily distracted; his eyes seemed to be glowing with their force. She shook her head and the glowing stopped. She was definitely not all together there in the present. She needed to finish waking up and she needed answers. "What happened?"

Draco cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "We can talk about this later. You just woke up."

Aerie stopped him with a glare that, unlike the rest of her body, was working properly. "Absolutely not. Now is as good a time as ever. The Medi-wizard said that my brain was fully functioning, which was surprising for a coma patient. So don't undermine me, Draco Malfoy. What happened?"

He sighed with a small smirk and crossed his legs, propping his left arm on her bed. "Your attitude hasn't changed at all."

"My attitude has been frozen for two years," she reminded him. "Quit dithering."

His eyes narrowed in a mirror image of hers. "I do _not_ dither."

"Nor do you get to the point, Mr. Malfoy," she replied. "For the third time I will ask: what happened?"

He sighed, without dramatics, and started, "Lucius tried to kill you with the Spell of Unmaking."

"Lucius? Why do you call him that?" Aerie asked before she could stop herself.

"Of all things to pick up in that statement, you wonder about what I call the man?" Draco growled. "It is because I will not claim that bastard as my father. Obviously you know about the Spell of Unmaking or _that _would have been your question. Do you want to hear what happened or not?"

Feeling like a hypocrite, Aerie flushed. "Sorry. Please continue."

He placed a hand over his eyes and carried on. "I stopped him from finishing the spell. I broke his concentration, but you—you were—" He cut off and coughed slightly. He started again. "You were on the ground, your arms broken and curled in a spiral behind your head. Your body was bent back and your head—your head was…" His knuckles whitened as he clenched his hands together. He would not lift his head to look at her. He sighed and finished in a rush, "Your head was against the backs of your knees."

Aerie felt sick with having a visual to her remembered pain. "Oh, God."

"We got the attention of some of the teachers and immediately transported you here. They re-grew your bones and muscles, but you were unconscious and haven't woken."

Aerie nodded since it made sense. With decided effort, she changed the subject. "What happened to you and your family?"

Draco smiled darkly. "I'm only out of Azkaban on a probationary status," he explained. "My mother was the one who lied to Voldemort about Harry Potter being dead to get to me, so she was freed from all charges, also on a probationary status. I testified against Lucius at his trial and because of that, I was put on probation until my own hearing. That cannot happen until my key witness is well enough to testify on my behalf. So, my job during probation has been to do everything in my power to make my witness ready. My magic use has been suspended until further notice minus the needs for potion making. Which you know is my strong point."

"So I am your key witness? And you've become my potions handler?"

Draco inclined his head once. "Yes. When you slipped into the coma, no Medi-wizard was able to pull you out of it, even after all your bones and muscles were grown back. Your health was decreasing and you were getting very close to wasting away. It was during one of my visits that I suggested a potion. Though it was uncommon, it would help regulate nutrients, water content, and internal organ function. But they had no potions master working for them to create the concoction. I volunteered my services. The Ministry could find no reason not to allow me to do so, since I needed you at my trial, and I immediately went to work."

"Potions handler. That is amazing. So is that how you've been supporting yourself? I assume you don't live at Malfoy Manor and have been separated from your accounts at Gringotts."

He glared at her. "Are you reading my aura? Do you want to just tell this story for me?"

She laughed softly. "No, I didn't read your aura. I just figured that the Ministry would make you live like a Muggle until they gave you your trial. Am I wrong?"

He smirked. "No, not wrong. I forgot how intuitive you could be. Yes, I have been living like a Muggle. And it is a pain in the ass, Johnny. I don't know how they do it."

"It's character building, I'm sure," she chuckled in response. "You seem to have managed all right."

"I can't stand not having magic," he retorted darkly. "The only time I get to use it is when I'm making your potion."

Saying that must have reminded him of something, because he stood and went to his cloak. Aerie watched him in fascination. He walked with surprising confidence that she had not noticed when he arrived. He strode like a man comfortable in his skin even after being demoted to a Muggle form of living. His shoulders were a little broader (from aging a few years and probably continual exercise) and he stood a little straighter. Being a Muggle and Potions Master did him wonders. She watched as he pulled a small clear vial from an inside pocket and came back to her, stopping at the floating box above her head.

"This is the potion," he said by way of explanation and opened a small door. He poured the potion into the space inside and closed the door. "You've been getting this every day for the past two years. It has kept your internal levels balanced."

Aerie knew her eyes were wide and did not care. "Fantastic. That is bloody fantastic, Draco! Do they distribute this to the other coma patients here? What hospital is this, by the way?"

"St. Mungo's, naturally," he replied. "And yes, they are starting to give it to others. It took them about a year to determine if it was applicable to others. I sort of catered the potion to help you specifically."

Again, Aerie was astounded. "Thank you, Draco." Catered to her specifically? How in Merlin's name does one cater a potion for someone? Her mind whirled. That was one thing Uncle Severus never did: teach her advanced potions. Draco was like a Muggle chemist! Mixing and changing things into a new compound. He came up with all of this during the stress of probation? How did he even have time to think about it?

Determined to discover some answers for herself, Aerie took a moment to delve into his aura, but she hit a problem. There was nothing there. She could not _See_ anything! Turning on her Sight to it full power, nothing floated around Draco's body. No color, no fuzzy shapes, no nothing.

Before losing herself to panic, she gave herself a second to calm down, then pressed harder at her Sight. Still nothing.

"Oh shit," she hissed.

Draco had been on alert the moment she let herself be concerned a half second before she had softly exclaimed. "What's the matter?" he demanded.

"I can't read your aura. I can't even _See_ your aura!" Another hideous thought crept into her mind. If she could not _See… _

Immediately she slowly raised her right hand. "_Lumos_," she whispered with the heavy effort to hold her hand steady.

Nothing happened.

Alarm descended in a brilliant explosion in Aerie's head. No magic. No magic! She turned wild eyes to Draco who was standing, damn him, with a look of pitying understanding on his handsome face.

"Where is my wand?" she asked with forced calm, not willing to acknowledge what was becoming increasingly apparent.

Without a word, he went around the bed and opened the drawer in the nightstand, pulling out a cobalt blue beaded necklace with a strange silver pendant and set it aside as he grabbed out the shockingly blue wand. Her eyes followed the necklace in distracted surprise until Draco handed the wand to her. All her thoughts of the familiar necklace disappeared at the presence of more pressing matters.

With a flick, Aerie attempted to levitate Draco's coat from the other side of the room. The black fabric did not even twitch.

"_Lumos_," she intoned with desperation.

Still nothing happened. Her grip tightened on both the wand and her will to not scream.

"No need to melt down just yet," Draco said quickly, sensing the cracking control. "Your strength is not back yet. It is said that coma patients who have been unconscious for a long time have to build both their strength and their magic back. Your magic has been dormant for almost two and a half years, after all."

The dam broke.

"That's still not good!" Aerie exploded. "How am I supposed to accomplish anything without my magic?"

"I've been doing pretty well," Draco reminded her dryly, sitting back down and not giving her the appropriate sympathy.

Aerie huffed, reluctantly willing to concede to his point, and let go of her wand, letting it clatter to the floor. She still wanted to cry. Draco got up again and picked up the fallen, useless piece of wood while she heavily (and with great effort) swung out an arm to get the glass of water on the nightstand to try and dislodge the lump in her throat on her own. Her heavy hand smacked down on the forgotten necklace. Terror laced through her immediately. Oh, she recognized the necklace, all right. But why the hell was it on her nightstand? Could things get any worse? Her panic rose and erupted.

"No, no, no! Why did you pull this out?" she demanded of Draco, swiping the beaded jewelry to the floor with a grunt.

Draco immediately bent to retrieve it. "Why is it a problem?"

"Because—"

The rest of what Aerie was going to say was swept away in sudden rush of wind swirling through the room and the tinkle of soft bells. The moment it all died, Aerie groaned at the sight.

"Welcome back to the Waking, my daughter," Dah'liandri-Ahra spoke with feeling from the corner of the room.

Draco had frozen and was staring without shame. Aerie could hardly blame him since her mother was resplendent in a deep purple gown that brightened the red wave of hair pouring over one shoulder. A large silver medallion dangled from her neck and her bright blue eyes did not even spare Draco a glance as she glided forward. Her skirts made no sound as she moved.

Aerie immediately tried to pull herself up and failed. "I didn't mean to call you. I just woke up; can we do this another time? Now is not good."

"What the hell?" Draco muttered, trying to gain back some self control but still appearing impressed.

"Our agreement was made, Astoria," Dah'lia replied and took another step forward.

Draco snapped out of his stupor.

"I don't know who you think you are," he exploded instantly, immediately hostile, stepping up to the bed on the opposite side of Dah'lia. "But Aeridia needs time to recuperate before she moves. Do not come in here making proclamations so soon after she has woken up. Who are you?"

Dah'lia turned her unnerving blue gaze on Draco, who (under the circumstances) did rather well at not flinching. She appeared surprised at being addressed directly and turned her head to study who had spoken to her.

"I am her mother, human," she said slowly after a moment, as if talking to a child. "I will decide what is good for her. She has touched the necklace I gave her several human years ago and now she and I will go home."

"Home?" Draco and Aerie asked simultaneously.

"I am not going to Glory," Aerie said.

"Glory?"

"You have spoken in overabundance, Astoria," Dah'lia chided sternly. The temperature dropped a few degrees in the room. "I will not have a human learn of us."

"You should have thought of that before you showed yourself to him then," Aerie retorted. "We are not leaving."

Draco's white-knuckled grip on the sheets agreed silently, though his face looked thoroughly confused.

"They cannot heal you the way our people can," Dah'lia insisted.

"_Your_ people?" Draco inquired harshly.

"She is an elf," Aerie stated.

Draco's jaw dropped unbidden as he turned to once again stare at the other woman.

"Again you speak in excess, Daughter," Dah'lia sighed in irritation. "I must now eradicate the memory."

Aerie interrupted before Dah'lia had a chance to raise her hand. "Do it and I will make your life a living hell, _Mother_."

Dah'lia hesitated and Draco's shoulders slumped slightly in relief.

"Let his memory be and I will come with you," Aerie continued. "No arguments."

With a graceful shrug, Dah'lia turned away. Aerie looked up at Draco.

"She is my mother."

"I gathered," Draco said, managing to still sound sardonic even in his astonishment, eyes still on Dah'lia inspecting a picture on the wall.

"Don't be a smartass," she quipped in return, glad to hear his wit intact. "She is an elf. I am part elf. Hence my special abilities. Her name is Dah'liandri-Ahra and she is going to take me to the elfin homeland of Glory."

Draco raised a brow. "Do you have any idea how ludicrous that sounds? 'Elfin homeland of Glory?' Please, I was not born yesterday."

Aerie glared at him. "You think I'm making this up? Did you look at her eyes? What part of her is human?"

Draco shuddered involuntarily. "Point taken."

"I don't want to go," Aerie said then. "It is only due to my idiocy that I touched the necklace. I don't know when I will be back. This place is in the United States hidden from the world in Maine."

"You don't have to go anywhere," he replied.

Aerie chuckled darkly. "Do you think you or I can stop her? Neither of us has magic, plus she manages to Apparate into places that should not allow that ability, just like I usually can. I will be back when I can."

"You will not be coming back," Dah'lia breathed softly from the corner of the room.

Both Draco and Aerie looked up in alarm.

"What?"

"No!"

Draco grabbed Aerie's hand right at that moment. "She is _not_ going _anywhere_," he hissed.

Aerie's heart took flight.

"This is for her own good, human," Dah'lia replied, gliding forward. "We can provide for her better than your miniscule race has ever been able to with your petty tricks. Be glad that I am acquiescing to Astoria's wishes and your memory will remain. Otherwise I would wipe away all remembrance of her. It is time to go."

"I don't want to!" Aerie roared.

"Cease acting like a child, Astoria," Dah'lia hissed, icicles forming on the ceiling. "It is unbecoming. I have permitted conversation to continue long enough. My patience is wearing thin."

She waved her hand, elevating Aerie from the bed.

"No, no, no!" Aerie growled, still holding Draco's hand and using it as a lifeline.

"Put her down, Elf!" Draco gasped.

"No." Her tone could not have been more final.

Aerie's eyes caught Draco's and she said quietly, "I won't be there long. I will find a way to get back."

"No," Draco whispered, tightening his grip.

"You are done with this world, Astoria," Dah'lia finalized.

Wind swept up, forcing the two apart and flinging Draco into the wall. The tinkle of bells echoed softly and Aerie allowed herself to be taken away.

The wind died and a silence, softly punctuated by the shallow breathing of the fallen man, filled the room. Draco looked up, knowing, yet hoping that it was not true, that Aerie was gone. Again. His eyes searched the room anyway.

"_Fuck_," he groaned, slowly standing up.

_No, no, no._

He stared at the now vacant bed, coming forward and feeling the still warm sheets. "_Shit_."

_No, no, no, NO!_

She had been lying there for two years, four months, and three days and just when she wakes up, she is gone again! A bitter part of him that he had been trying to get rid of over the past few years crept up and growled in annoyance. Nothing could be simple, could it?

He collapsed in a chair and ran a hand through his hair, still staring at the empty bed. He used to spend hours sitting here, doing the same thing, watching her breath slowly in and out and allowing his own breathing to slow down and sync with hers. It had been cathartic after the stress of trying to be a Muggle, dealing with the fact that he had no magic until she woke up. As long as she kept breathing, in and out, in and out, they were one step closer to things working out.

She was the one steady thing in his life. Every day he would arrive here after his job at the Muggle bar to give her the potion, sit and watch her until his muscles relaxed, and then go visit his mother to give her an update on Aerie's condition. His mother was particularly concerned, which pleased Draco secretly, as she felt beholden to Aerie for Draco's protection during the War.

Now he was doing his part. Aerie had protected him, now he would protect her. Protect her from wasting away and doing that with what he did best: potions. After hours of pouring drinks and listening to the drunken moaning of Muggles with petty problems, Draco quickly lost himself in the simplicity of making a potion that would quicken the recovery of the one person who could have an intellectual conversation with him.

The brevity of the situation hit him at that moment. Not only was she gone, but he was only person to see the—thing—that took her, the non-human woman who claimed to be Aerie's mother. Who was going to believe him?

A gasp at the door brought his gaze up in a panic. "She's gone," he stated softly to Medi-wizard Kittirick as she stared, wide-eyed at the empty bed. "A woman showed up and took her."

"T-t-took her?" Kittirick stammered.

"Yes, as in kidnapped her," Draco snapped, already tired of the stupidity of the question. "We can't get her back because she has disappeared to a place that does not exist."

Kittirick gasped again. "Then it's true," she whispered.

He gazed at her sharply waiting for her to explain. When she did not, only continued to stare, he droned sarcastically and with tremendous frustration, "Share with the class."

The Medi-wizard met his stare hesitantly after a moment and said, "When Astoria came here, we did all the customary tests when we put her back together. Unfortunately, when we determined her blood type, it came back with a combination unlike anything we had ever seen before and we could not supply her with any blood."

"Her blood is abnormal?" he asked, curious despite himself.

"Yes," Kittirick nodded quickly. "We had to leave her to slowly produce her own blood because we did not have a match. All of our Healers were and are confused about what Astoria is since she is not entirely human. And it was suggested—" She stopped, taking a deep breath.

"What was?" Draco demanded when she did not begin again, irritated at her dithering. Honestly, could the woman not just say what was on her mind?

"It was suggested that she was an elf. Well—" She corrected herself. "Part elf, at least. But not like a house-elf. No, something more complex. There is a myth about such grand elves living in secret; living in a place that no one has seen. Astoria was the first hint that the myth might be true."

"It is true," Draco agreed. "I saw the elf for myself."

If Kittirick's eyes were not wide enough, they got slightly wider. "You did? Is that—"

"Her mother," he supplied. "Her real mother. And she has taken Aeridia to that place that no one knows about. And why did you not tell me any of this before?"

"It was not my place to say, especially since this was all speculation. At any rate, Astoria disappearing is not good."

"No it's not. I can't go get her since I don't know where it is."

"Nor can you leave the country, Mr. Malfoy," she responded, fixing him with a stern look. "No one knows about her real mother, and if you don't leave the hospital now, someone is going to think that you were responsible for her disappearance."

That was a thought that Draco had not considered. "That is ridiculous. Who would honestly think that?"

"Someone walking in right this moment and seeing her gone would, especially with you holding her wand."

He had forgotten that he had picked up Aerie's wand. He tightened his grip on the only tangible thing he had that belonged to her. Why would it matter if the authorities thought that he was the one who made Aerie disappear? It was not as if they actually liked him. No one had since the War.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked wearily. "I wouldn't do something like that."

Kittirick's voice softened. "I know you wouldn't. Because I happen to know that you care a great deal for Astoria, though you won't admit it. Why else would you be here every day?"

"To give her the potion?" he retorted, not giving in to what she was saying.

"You could have allowed me to give it to her. But I know that you lived for this. Deny it all you want; I know this is more than a probationary obligation."

Draco seethed. Who did this woman think she is? He had to protect Aerie. It _was_ his obligation. But this woman did not need to know that.

"I'm sure that her mother will take care of her and bring her back when she is healed," he said, attempting, and failing, at sounding nonchalant.

Kittirick nodded. "Oh, of course," she replied dryly. "But I still have to report this. Her parents will need to be notified, as will the Ministry. The circumstances of the elfin connection will have to be omitted from my report."

"Rightly so," he agreed.

"That means you are the primary suspect of her disappearance," she pointed out.

"Wouldn't see it any other way." He shrugged. "I'm always on my best behavior. Let them try and commit me."

He went and grabbed his cloak.

"I will do one thing for you, Mr. Malfoy," Kittirick said once he had his cloak on.

He paused and turned to her, wanting to leave so that he could get to his mother's house. There were some ancient texts he needed to consult sooner rather than later.

"I will report that she disappeared after you left for the day. That should lighten some of the suspicion on you."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And why would you do that?"

To his surprise, she blushed and looked away. If he had not been so hell-bent on getting out of the hospital, he might have spent a few moments basking in the knowledge that he had unwittingly manipulated a woman with his looks. As it were, he was feeling more generous.

"Thank you," he said before he could think against it. What the hell had gotten into him? A Malfoy is hardly gracious.

Kittirick blushed harder. "I only wish that this helps you. I hope to find a man that will care about me the way that you care about Astoria."

Draco nodded curtly and swept from the room, leaving Kittirick to notify the Ministry of the disappearance of the last injured patient from the War while he went to find the location of the mythical world of elves. Merlin, he felt ridiculous just thinking about it. Could Aerie not have just been sucked down to a mermaid grotto or taken to a dragon's cave? That would have been much more realistic.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The moment Aerie and Dah'lia left St. Mungo's, Dah'lia's mood blossomed. The two second trip from Europe to North America had the taste of strawberries and the brightness of a spring day, all while the capability of vision (or any other sense, for that matter) was impossible.

They landed gently on a grassy slope that rolled down to the base of a magnificent waterfall that had no less than three rainbows glistening in the spray. Aerie found herself cradled in Dah'lia's arms, not knowing how she got there or how she was to manage getting out of it. She let that thought go as her eyes caught a glimpse up and she gasped.

"Welcome to Glory, Astoria." Her mother beamed in happiness.

Perched artistically, precariously, and magnificently on the top of the waterfall and in the cliff face on either side of it climbed what could only be called a town of rose marble. Turrets and flying buttresses met in architectural impossibilities out over the open space from the cliff. Every window glittered with purple, red, green glass and every variation of those three colors and threw the reflections of light in all directions by the rising sun.

Never had Aerie seen anything so beautiful.

"I know," Dah'lia said.

With a pop, they Disapparated and instantly stood in a marble courtyard, a fountain of white marble gurgling softly in the center. Dah'lia gently set Aerie on the lip of the fountain, placing her feet in the water and laying her back to rest on the rim.

"This is not the fountain of youth, is it?" Aerie asked, half expecting the answer to be yes.

"That is a myth, Astoria," her mother chided. "A fanciful story for children."

Aerie snorted. "And this isn't?" She looked around the courtyard and was anticlimactically unimpressed with the architecture now that they were in the town. It must only be breathtaking from a distance. This was too much rose and white marble.

Dah'lia smiled. "So it is. But no; I set you there so that I might heal you myself. I will give back your strength and magic. Our people store their power within themselves in times of physical stress, and each has the ability to bring it once again to the surface."

Soft voices stopped Aerie from responding and caused Dah'lia to turn around.

"Drue," she said, the name like a prayer, and bowed slightly.

Aerie tilted her head back and froze. The murmuring cut off instantly.

At least four dozen elves had silently crept up and were standing at the head of one street into the courtyard, all dressed elegantly in white, blue, or purple. They were all different, yet eerily the same: bright blue eyes, devoid of irises, and all stared unblinkingly at Aerie. The man in front, however, stood out the most because of this characteristic as it was in stark contrast to the rest of his appearance. His black hair fell in two shining ribbons over his shoulders with equally dark eyebrows. He alone stepped forward.

"This is your daughter," he said deeply with slight question.

"Yes, Drue," Dah'lia answered, turning to Aerie and giving her a pleased smile.

Though no one spoke or moved, tension thrumming tight as a wire behind the dark elf. Aerie's eyes flicked to them but were immediately brought back as the other elf stepped closer.

"I am Drue, Astoria Aeridia," he addressed her.

Aerie cleared her throat. "I gathered."

A slight narrowing of the eyes was the only indication she had that he was amused.

"You will have to forgive us," he continued. "We have not seen one of our kind so—" Here is hesitated, looking her over. "—young in an immensely long time."

"How long is 'immensely?' If you don't mind my asking?"

"Not at all," he replied and gestured to Dah'lia. "Your mother was the last young one some three human centuries prior."

Aerie choked on her gasp. "Three _hundred_ years old?" She turned to Dah'lia. "You're _three hundred_ years old?"

"I explained that pregnancy is rare in our race," Dah'lia stated, seemingly unfazed by Aerie's exclamation.

In fact, no one seemed to be fazed much by anything. Though the tension was almost palpable behind Drue, no indication of excitement showed on their features. They could all be talking about the weather for all the reaction anyone gave. If what Drue was saying was true, then Aerie was a rare commodity and everyone should be celebrating. The only thing she could see were a few wide eyes. What a lively bunch.

"Don't get too crazy with the excitement or anything," Aerie droned sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"There will be a celebration to honor your return home," Drue replied.

"Joy of joys," she muttered, flopping her head away from him. "I would at least like to be able to walk first."

"Yes, of course," Dah'lia answered, gracefully stepping into the fountain, the water coming up to her chest.

"Wait," Aerie exclaimed at the sudden transition. She turned her head back to the head elf. "Drue," Aerie called, for the other elf was walking away.

He stopped and turned to her.

"If Dah'lia is three hundred years old, and she's the youngest, how old are you?"

"Astoria!" Dah'lia hissed. The tension from the other elves snapped into place again.

"Cease, Dah'liandri-Ahra," Drue chided. "You're daughter is unaware of our ways. I will forgive this."

Aerie had not realized she had broken a rule.

"I am two thousand, one hundred and seven human years old, Young One," he continued.

Rather than be surprised, Aerie shrugged nonchalantly. "Of course you are. And haven't aged a day since you were thirty. Thank you."

Drue turned and walked away without another word. Aerie faced her mother who was staring at her.

"What?"

"I have never, in all my years watching you, seen such disrespect for elders," Dah'lia steamed slowly.

Rather impressed that her mother was angry, Aerie grinned impishly. "You actually sound like a chastising mother. I just find it hard to fathom he is that old. Or that you are three hundred years old. The idea of it seems so cliché! I cannot tell you how many times I have read in Muggle fairy tales that elves live hundreds of years. This sounds like something right out of a Tolkien novel!"

"That man was here once," Dah'lia unexpectedly supplied. "There must have been elf ancestors further back in his bloodline, otherwise he would not have wandered into Glory. We were his inspiration for his elves, but we were required to erase his mind and leave him only with the impression of a dream."

Aerie gaped, the information having blindsided her.

Dah'lia smiled and stepped forward in the water. "Release your bitterness for your homeland, Astoria. We are everything from which myth, legend, and rumor begin, for every story starts with a single grain of truth. It is what you do with it that defines it."

She reached forward and pulled Aerie into the water.

"It is time for you to return to your power, Daughter."

And with that, she let go, causing Aerie to sink under the surface. Without a warning, she had been unable to take a breath, and swallowed water before holding her breath, sinking heavily to the bottom. Dah'lia floated above her, hair a shimmering mass of red and robes like billowing wings. Even underwater she was glorious. A smile graced her lips as she reached forward, brushing Aerie's hair from her face.

Aerie was running out of air, but she did not have the strength to push up.

Dah'lia's fingernail grazed her right ear and down her arm, bringing both of Aerie's hands forward. Slowly, ever so slowly, Dah'lia connected each of their fingertips together, little finger to thumb then little finger of the other hand to thumb. When Aerie's left thumb connected with Dah'lia's right thumb, a jolt raced up Aerie's arms and water began to swirl around her fingers. Eyes wide and lungs bursting, she watched as Dah'lia reached and touched the tip of her right index finger to Aerie's stomach. Another jolt, more powerful, and more water swirled at the spot, slowly growing.

She looked up in alarm, her lungs now screaming for air as Dah'lia touched her between the eyes. A larger shock sent her head whipping back and water to spin across her vision.

Pain was radiating through her fingertips, stomach, and head; her body was about to pass out from lack of oxygen when one last touch was placed over her heart. The instant, stunning pain curled her into a ball as water encased her, whirling and twisting, in a solid bubble of tightly moving liquid pain. It chafed against her skin, suffocated her lungs and mind, and soaked straight through to the bone.

Just when it could not get any tighter, the water released and splashed Aerie, spread eagle, on the smooth floor of the courtyard. She took in sweet gulps of air, immediately coughing up water.

She turned wild eyes toward her mother. "What the fuck was that?" she demanded when her coughing stopped and her breathing steadied.

"The healing power of water," Dah'lia replied, standing beside her with her clothes already dried. "It is a rather long process."

Aerie slowly curled her fingers in experimentation. "Why do you say that? It wasn't like I was down there long enough to nearly drown or anything. I was getting close, though." Her fingers were moving easily.

"You were encased in the water for ten weeks."

Aerie was flummoxed. That was ridiculous! But Dah'lia's aura was telling the truth. "Wow," she finally said.

"Indeed."

Flattening her hands on the ground, Aerie slowly lifted herself up without a hint of strain. With a blooming smile, she leapt up and spun in a circle. She raised a hand at the fountain and water exploded up and showered over the entire courtyard.

She giggled. Dah'lia smiled gently.

Aerie cupped her hands and breathed into them, coaxing a small purple fire into life between her fingers. She looked up at her mother with the most sincere expression of gratitude that she would ever give.

"Thank you, Dah'lia," she said. "Thank you very much."

"You are welcome, Astoria," Dah'lia nodded in response. She gestured forward. "Now come. You need to be fitted for your dress for the celebration."

The reality of her situation returned in full force at that statement. Aerie froze.

"Not that I don't appreciate you giving me my strength and power back, Dah'lia," she began slowly, "but I cannot in good faith stay here. You know that. I have to go back."

The temperature dropped significantly in the courtyard as the elf's eyes narrowed.

"Please, listen to me!" Aerie begged. "I have been unconscious for more than two years and the second that I wake up I disappear. People are going to be concerned. Draco is going to be in trouble with the Ministry for my disappearance, I'm sure of it! You have, in your attempt at keeping me safe, made life more difficult to those I care about. Please take me back."

"I have already altered the minds of everyone who has known you, Astoria," Dah'lia said. "Except for the man you claim to love."

Aerie took a breath and asked softly, "What do you mean?"

"You are now in your rightful place in the human world as the daughter of Fornax Greengrass and half sister to Daphne Greengrass. Your cousin is Astoria Cerende Matthews, born to Cassiopeia and Corvus Matthews. Your life is still your own, only your heritage has been altered. I had the intention of introducing you to your real father after the celebration."

Aerie's mind reeled. Her parents were no longer hers? The uncle she had never spoken to was now her father? "So if I were to go see my parents, they would not recognize me as their daughter?"

"No."

"But the humans still believe that I was a victim of a coma at St. Mungo's?"

"Yes."

"So Draco is still suspect to my disappearance?"

"The matter does not concern me."

"My happiness should concern you!" Aerie exploded. "You changed the minds of everyone so that you could have your own little reunion with your past! You want to be in a favorable light as you reintroduce your daughter to him, only so that you could satisfy your own selfishness. But I don't want that! I want—no, I need—to go back so that I can put my life to rights. You had no reason other than that stupid selfishness to do any of this. Forget your party; I'm not going. You and the other blue-eyed robots can go and be monotonous together. I cannot sit by when my life was just starting again and I was about to help the man I love."

Dah'lia was staring at her in undisguised shock. "You would give up your life in Glory to stay with a human?"

"Yes. You have taken away everyone else that I love. I bet that even Uncle Severus does not remember me." Aerie crossed her arms, daring her mother to argue.

Surprisingly, Dah'lia did not.

"I have never seen such passion, Astoria. You are speaking truthfully."

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Aerie snorted and dropped her arms. "I'm sorry, Dah'lia."

"You do not wish to stay and see your home?"

"I was given a very nice view when we arrived. Plus, I don't mean to sound rude, but the elves creep me out with their emotionless faces and identical eyes." Aerie shivered. "Not having any pupils? Extremely weird."

"Yet you do not have pupils, Daughter."

"My eyes are black; it makes more sense," Aerie defended.

Dah'lia gave a rather human sigh. "I understand your wishes, Daughter, and against my better judgment will grant them. I will allow you go back to the human world on one condition."

"I'm afraid to ask," Aerie muttered.

"You must allow me to visit you."

Aerie beamed immediately. "I can allow that."

"Also allow me to dress you in garments other than that hideous frock."

Aerie looked down at herself, noticing for the first time what she had been wearing. A garish green hospital gown draped unbecomingly on her frame to just below her knees. She reiterated her previous statement, "I can allow that."

"Come with me," Dah'lia said, and walked away from the fountain down a street.

Aerie refrained from uttering anything as she hurried to keep up and they passed through twisting archways and architecture, up several winding staircases and finally into a building that was as similar as the last one. The beauty from outside the walls of Glory obviously did not extend to the inside and Aerie felt rather cheated by the simplicity of it all. The word "anticlimactic" ran through her head again.

"This is my home," Dah'lia stated.

Just like the outside, the home inside was rather unimpressive. No furniture rested in the large room, only a few tall, strange glass ornaments. Aerie did not even want to ask what they were in case it delayed her departure. The next room was equally as easily forgotten. It only held a simple white bed and large wardrobe made of pale wood. Aerie was getting a little tired of the pink and white.

"I hope this wasn't just some ploy to make me want to stay here, Dah'lia," she sighed. "Because it isn't working. The decorative styles are rather lacking." Saying she did not like it would have been an understatement.

Dah'lia ignored her comment and opened the wardrobe, pulling out a glorious purple gown similar to the one that she was wearing. "This was to be your room, Astoria," she said. "These gowns were specifically created to be worn by you."

"Don't guilt me. It won't work. I have to go home," Aerie replied as her mother laid out the soft material.

Aerie fingered it appreciatively. The jeweled clasp that gathered the material under the bust glittered invitingly.

"I like this," Aerie grudgingly admitted.

"It is yours." Dah'lia walked out of the room to allow her to change.

Aerie was quick about it. And loved the dress! The clasp gathered the material in such a way that her waist seemed slimmer and her breasts larger. She needed more outfits like this.

Walking out the door, she immediately thanked Dah'lia and made ready to leave.

"Be careful, Daughter," Dah'lia said. "The world is not how you knew it."

That made Aerie pause. She could not go home. The crushing weight of the knowledge of her predicament almost immobilized her. Her parents did not know her any longer. She did not have any friends either. So the only person left would be…

"I will just find Uncle Severus. And then Draco."

Dah'lia actually sighed. "I do not understand your fascination with the human."

"You have removed everyone else I care about so he's the only one left. And I love him."

"As you so adamantly reiterate. Leave now before my patience ends."

Aerie smiled dryly. "Brilliant. Thank you, Mother."

"I will visit."

"Warn me a few days in advance."

"If you insist."

"I do."

Dah'lia stepped away and nodded. This was clearly all the farewell Aerie was going to receive. With a crack, Aerie disappeared to go to Severus Snape.

She stood at the doorstep of Uncle Severus' home and quickly knocked, hoping he was home so that she could hug him and know that she still had at least one family member.

No one answered.

Aerie knocked again.

Still no one.

_He must be out_, she thought logically. She could come back later to see him.

With a nervous stutter of her heart, Aerie shut her eyes and found the will inside herself to find Draco wherever he was located. With another crack, Aerie was off again.

She was now standing in the middle of a surprisingly clean living room with minimal furniture. A couch, one chair, and a coffee table were behind her. A kitchenette stood before her and a door to a hallway was to her left.

"I haven't gone anywhere, Carico!" the voice that always made her heart thump erratically thundered from the hallway as heavy stomps echoed toward her. She smiled. "You have to stop showing up whenever you fucking feel like—"

Draco froze in the doorway when he saw her. Her smile grew, quickly taking in his black dress pants and white button up, sleeves rolled to his elbows and tie undone around his neck, her stomach clenching around an assault of butterflies.

"I'm sorry if you feel like I'm intruding," she said through her sudden giddiness.

His eyes had been slowly taking in her own ensemble and instantly snapped to her face at her statement. They narrowed and he raised his voice. "All right, Carico, pretty convincing, but no dice. Aeridia doesn't own a dress like that."

She stared at him in confusion as he looked around the room.

"You can stop the spell now, Carico," he said to the room at large.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, Draco?" she demanded, propping her hands on her hips.

His eyes followed the movement of her hands. "That's pretty good. You have the attitude worked out perfectly. What did you do to modify the spell?"

Aerie was getting tired of this game. "Nothing, you twit. Because it's me."

"Time to come up with a new dialog. This one hasn't changed. I'm not convinced."

New dialog? This Carico person was impersonating her? To what end?

"Who is Carico and why do you think I'm not real?" she asked.

Draco sighed and went to sit on the couch. "Same conversation every time you try. I will admit, this time you really outdid yourself with the spell. I almost believe it. But I won't be guilted into telling you what happened to the real Aeridia. So just give up already. She disappeared and will show up whenever she damn well can; it has nothing to do with me."

Aerie nodded once. "I figured they would think that you took me since you were the last one to see me. Though I didn't think it would take that short of time."

"Short of time?" he demanded, confusion written all over his face at her response. "I don't know what the hell you're thinking, Ministry whore, Carico has been on my case every day about Aeridia since she vanished three months ago!"

Aerie nodded again, confirming a suspicion while trying not to let the biting hostility affect her. "I forgot it's been ten weeks." She sighed. "It has only felt like I've been there an hour."

Draco blinked. "What do you mean, 'been there'?" he asked and added absentmindedly, "This is a new conversation."

Aerie laughed. "You really are dense when you want to be, aren't you, Draco?"

He stood up and towered over her, in her face and smelling amazing. She was momentarily dizzy by his proximity. "What is this?" he demanded. "Where the hell did Carico get you? This is too far. I don't know who you think you are, but you have crossed a line."

Aerie stepped back at his fury and overwhelmed with sudden heat racing through her. "Draco, I'm serious. It really is me."

"Stop saying that!" he exploded. "Every week this happens. I'm sick of seeing a fake Aeridia in my apartment. Get the fuck out and stop wasting my time!"

She did not move. He grabbed her arm roughly and carted her to the door.

"Give up yet, bitch?" he asked wearily. "Run back to Carico and report me. Try harder to convince me next time. Though I will give you your props; you are the most convincing Aerie that Carico has sent."

"What will it take?" she replied softly as he opened the door to kick her out. "To convince you, that is?"

With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. Aerie watched the movement in fascination. She had not realized she missed little things like that. She looked at him expectantly and Draco snorted then went and slumped in the chair again, leaving her standing at the open door and feeling the bruises already forming on her arm from his force.

"Not going to quit, are you?" he chuckled darkly. "All right, then. Tell me things that no one but Aeridia and I would know."

"I'm an elf just returned from Glory," she said distinctly with a smirk.

He inhaled sharply, slowly looking up at her a moment later, searching her face wildly in uncensored disbelief and hope. His voice came out hoarse. "Aeridia?"

"You never call me that," she laughed in response to his incredulous look as he stood up. "I rather enjoyed the nickname 'Johnny,' and I spent the better half of a year being your protector at your mother's request. I can read auras and Apparate into any room anywhere. I convinced Pansy Parkinson that you were sleeping with her for months. I told you—"

Her words were cut off as Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her forward and crushed her to his chest, his arms locked tightly around her. She gasped as his aura engulfed her, pulsing deeply and saying "Aerie" with every beat. She wrapped her arms around him, sighing with pleasure. God, it felt wonderful being in his arms. The last time had been in the midst of battle. For her, it had only been a day; for him, that was more than two years ago.

Her fingers locked on his shirt as one of his hands tangled in her curls. She felt him sigh deeply. She went to pull back, but his arms locked tighter, stopping her.

"Don't move for a moment," he said softly into her hair, rigid in vulnerability.

She shivered pleasantly and obeyed, thoroughly happy for the first time in what felt like ages.

They stood together in the middle of his sparse living room for several minutes before he ran his hands up her bare arms and gently pushed her back.

"Well, you're alive and back to normal it seems," he said gruffly, looking down at her with his intense silver eyes. His aura pulsed intensely again right at that moment. "Is your magic back?" he asked in an attempt at normalcy, stepping away a step.

Aerie raised a hand to illuminate the room when Draco stopped her.

"Don't do it unless you want Carico and the Ministry on my ass for using magic."

She lowered her hand. "Fair enough."

He continued to stare at her and his aura said her name again. To give herself a chance to breathe after the strength of his emotional stare, she looked around the room. "So how do we convince the Ministry that you did not kidnap me?" she asked, focusing on nothing as her eyes kept getting drawn back to him.

Draco chuckled and collapsed on one end of the couch. He indicated she take the other end. "I don't really care at the moment, Johnny."

She smiled brilliantly and sat. Her eyes caught his and held. "And why is that?"

He returned the smile with equal luminousness. She was stunned, her breath gone again. Merlin, she was never to going to breathe normally around him.

"I'm sure you can read my aura and find out for yourself," he said.

"You told me once that that was cheating," she retaliated. "Besides, I would rather hear you say it."

He slid toward her quickly, forcing her against the armrest. "I want to get one thing off my chest first." His eyes dropped down. "That dress is fucking hot."

A radiant blush bloomed across Aerie's cheeks. Well how was that for a shocking statement? _Did the room just get ten degrees warmer?_ she wondered silently. His eyes were making a heated path across her body. When they made it back to her eyes, he slowly reached forward and touched her cheeks, tracing the blush then moving to hold her face. His eyes were pewter as they stared at her.

"I missed you," he said, so softly that the words barely tumbled over her.

Yet she heard it, and her smile slowly blossomed, her heart expanding and thumping until it hurt. Draco's own smile quickly mirrored hers as he caressed her face with his thumbs.

Nothing needed to be said after that. They sat there; just like that, staring at one another until a quick and heavy knock at the door made them both jump in surprise. Draco shot up like a bullet, pulling Aerie up with him.

"Shit," he hissed. "Go into my room. Quickly!"

Aerie understood the brevity of the situation instantly and quietly raced down the hall into the only bedroom and closed the door enough to allow a crack for her to hear. She took a quick perusal around the sparse room as she leaned against the door frame. It only held a bed, a wardrobe, and a nightstand. She immediately turned and stuck her head out of the room to find out who was at the door. The person knocked a second time.

"I'm coming," he shouted and opened the door. "Hello, Mother."

"Draco." Aerie heard the familiar voice of Narcissa Malfoy and the click of heels on the hardwood floor.

Draco stuck his head into the hall and shook his head once at her to stay then disappeared.

"Now really is not a good time, Mother," he said gently.

"Of course it's not, dear," she said. "I'm here to look after you. Kitterick came to me to say that the Ministry was alerted of someone Apparating in your apartment and I have come to give you an alibi so that you won't get yourself into trouble."

Aerie cursed herself at her stupidity. Of course the Ministry is monitoring the magic. She should have Apparated outside.

"That was very considerate of you, Mother."

"I have other news, Draco, so it was beneficial that I came," Narcissa said gravely. "Parkinson has been released from Azkaban."

Aerie almost shrieked.

"_What_?" Draco demanded, horrified. "Why?"

"Good behavior apparently," his mother replied with disdain. Aerie could feel the anger radiating from the two of them from down the hall.

"But her memory was restored and she wants to kill Aerie!"

"That's why I came to tell you. When Aerie comes back from Glory, she will almost certainly come to see you first and you can warn her. The girl can take care of herself."

The news that Parkinson had her memory back was disconcerting, for sure. Someone really gifted at memory charms must have removed her spell for information. Lovely.

"With Aerie still in Glory she should be safe for now," Narcissa continued.

"Yes, she should be safe," Draco sighed wearily.

"Be careful, Draco," Narcissa said gently. "That's all I wanted to come and tell you."

"Thank you, Mother."

"Don't do anything foolish, darling," she replied. "I will go to the Ministry to tell them I was the one who Apparated here."

There was a crack and Draco came down the hall slowly, lost in angry thought. Aerie opened the door fully. He stopped when he saw her, taking another moment to absorb that she was there, his aura going from black anger to blue peacefulness instantly.

"Why didn't you tell her I was here?" she asked, bringing his attention back to the present.

"We need to come up with something a little less suspicious than you just happening to be at my place when I am the key suspect in your disappearance," he replied wryly, coming into the room.

Aerie blushed. "Ah. Right. Sorry to be a nuisance. Maybe I'll just go to Uncle Severus and have him claim that he found me. His name should be cleared by now, right?"

Draco froze in the process of closing the door. He looked at her with a pained expression. "He was your uncle?"

"Not by blood. He and Dumbledore helped raise my abilities since I was small so they became family." She stopped when his aura became grey. "Why?"

"Aerie, I'm sorry. Snape is—"

His aura revealed it first.

Dead.

Blackness clouded her vision.

No. No, no, no!

He could _not_ be gone, too. Uncle Albus and now Uncle Severus? Her parents might as well be dead since they would not know her. Aerie's world tilted and a strangled cry escaped her throat.

Dead.

_Everyone is dead now_, her mind wailed. _I'm all alone_.

She was deaf to anything Draco was trying to tell her; her senses had shut down. She was grief. Her world was grey. Her happiness was gone. Again. She had held on to the thought that though her parents may be gone, there was still Uncle Severus to fall back on. Now that was severed from her, as well. Snippets from her past with Severus blinked through her head, immediately followed by her parents and Dumbledore. No one left.

_No one left_.

She was all alone.

Her past was gone.

She sank to her knees as the tears ran uncontrollably down her face.

_No one left. _

_All alone._

"_You are not alone!_" Draco's shouting brought her abruptly to the present and she stared at him, not realizing she had been talking out loud.

She hiccupped and tried to breathe, the tears falling increasingly on her dress. Draco was kneeling in front of her, grasping her shoulders, looking at her with sympathy. With a sigh he sat on the floor with a leg on either side of her, and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest and rocking her softly. The kindness of the gesture loosened what little control Aerie had regained and she fell apart once again. She curled into him, burying her face in his chest, and heaved great sobs of sorrow.

She had not cried since Uncle Albus died. Everything welled up and poured forth, until, however long she lay there wrapped securely in Draco's warm embrace, she ran out of tears and all she could do was breathe in shaking breaths.

"You will never be alone, Aerie," Draco said into her hair when her breathing had settled.

"She took my parents from me, too," Aerie whimpered, tightening her hold on his shirt.

"The elf?" his voice dropped in anger. "She killed them?"

"Altered their memories."

"I don't understand."

Taking a steady breath, Aerie used every ounce of her will power to control her emotions. Just because they were gone did not mean that her training would lose its effect on her. Draco leaned back against a wall and held her tighter.

So Aerie told him everything: about Dah'lia, about Glory, about herself. She ended with what Dah'lia had done, explaining that his memory had been left unaltered at her request.

"Bloody hell," Draco breathed when she finished. "There's never been an easy moment for you, has there?"

She gave a dark chuckle. "I've been trained to handle it."

Draco gently pushed her back until he could look her in the eye. "You don't have to 'handle it' with me, Aerie."

She gave him a weak smile. "I have only ever just been myself with you, Draco. You are the only person in my generation who hasn't been afraid of me on some level."

His eyes turned slate in his anger. "Who the bloody hell has been afraid of you? What is there to be afraid of?"

"My abilities," she answered.

"I've been intimidated by your intelligence," he admitted. "And turned on," he added as an afterthought. "But never afraid. That is ridiculous."

Aerie sighed wearily and leaned her head on his shoulder again. "You, Uncle Sevus, and Uncle Albus were the only ones not afraid. Even my parents were afraid of me, though they still loved me." The loss hit her again and she choked on a sob.

Draco slid her forward, slipped an arm from around her waist to under her legs and stood swiftly up as if she weighed nothing at all. Aerie gasped at the movement and was gently deposited on the bed. She watched as Draco went into the bathroom for a moment, and softly touched the black comforter she was sitting on. She was on his bed. And he had put her there. He came back in, holding a familiar wooden box.

"My healing kit," she said in surprise. "You have it?"

"Yes," he replied, setting it on the nightstand and opening it.

He pulled out a small vial and placed it in her hands before going and closing the curtains.

"It's the potion you gave me that night all those years ago to dispel bad dreams," he said, coming back and sitting beside her.

Her memory flashed back to the night he had returned from the Death Eater meeting and had fallen apart in her arms. She looked up at him; he was smiling. She downed the potion in two gulps.

Draco took the bottle from her and put it away, the bottomless spell having replenished the potion already. She yawned involuntarily and stretched out on the bed. He leaned over her and pulled the comforter up to her chin.

"Sleep the sleep of the innocent, Aeridia," he said softly, tucking a curl behind her ear.

She had said the exact same thing to him after giving him the potion that night.

"I thought you had been asleep," she murmured, "I hadn't thought you heard me."

"I heard everything you ever said to me," he chuckled. "Whether I wanted to or not. Go to sleep, Johnny; I will see you in the morning."

"You always surprise me by your sweetness, Draco," she whispered, dipping in and out of consciousness. "That's why I love you." The gentle sweep of oblivion carried her away.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

A weight that Draco never knew he was carrying lifted from his shoulders as he watched Aerie fall asleep. She was here, she was alive, she was well, and she loved him! Still.

His world shifted and fell into place as he found himself responding in kind, "I love you, too."

And it was true.

With the pulsing of his heart, beating intensely as he trailed a finger down the sleeping girl's cheek, he continued to whisper, "I love you; I love you."

Not even bothering to change, Draco climbed into bed beside her, propping himself on one elbow to look at her. She shifted toward his warmth, hands gathering in the material of his shirt, breathing rhythmic and reassuring in its reality. Heaving a heady sigh of happiness, he gathered her closer, sliding further down to curl with her.

She was here, she was alive, and she was his.

"I love you."

Now all they had to do was get through the trial.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Draco was instantly awake when he felt someone stir beside him, momentarily confused about the presence of a warm body in his bed. Yet it all came tumbling back in blissful awareness, and he smiled down at the girl in his arms, hair tumbling in curling disarray across the pillow behind her. He felt her freeze as one eye opened and peered blearily up at him, searching his gaze.

"Welcome home, Johnny," he said, closing his eyes again and settling deeper into the bed, the arms he had around her waist and under her head pulling her closer.

He felt all of the tension in her body trickle away, her fingers flattening against his chest. "It's good to be home, Draco," she whispered, warm breath cascading across his neck.

His heart thumped. She was home. He opened his eyes again just to see her face when her stomach growled hungrily. A blush blossomed cutely across her face as he laughed.

Aerie pushed away from him with a huff. "I haven't eaten anything in over two and half years. Of course I'm hungry."

Still chuckling, Draco got up and pushed her down the hallway. "I can manage that. Let's make you some food."

"You can cook now?" she asked incredulously as she perched on the counter to watch him.

He rolled his eyes. "The Ministry left me with nothing. It was either learn to cook, or starve. It took me quite some time to stop cursing them under my breath."

He had, in fact, rather enjoyed the process of cooking. He had only cursed the Ministry until he found a cookbook; after that, cooking was therapeutic.

"Therapeutic?" Aerie suddenly asked, wide-eyed.

He paused in the middle of crouching down to pull out a pan and glared up at her. No secret thoughts from this woman. He had forgotten about that.

"You can shut that off, can't you?" he demanded, grabbing the pan he needed and standing, brandishing it in front of him at her.

She giggled lightly. "Got something to hide from me?" She raised one brow.

He eyed her speculatively, ideas on turning the pros of her gift around. "I wonder what you would think about some of the things that run through my mind."

He chuckled vindictively at her confused expression as he let his gaze drift down the purple dress she was still wearing. Thinking with avid detail about what he wanted to do to her and the dress right here in the kitchen, he met her eyes and smiled slowly, watching her face turn red as she read the change in his aura. Her breathing quickened, her chest heaving. He let his mind wander to that sight and what that was doing to him and he heard her swallow audibly.

"Draco," she groaned, hands gripping the countertop.

His plan backfired instantly as the desire he was forcing her to feel overwhelmed him, surging through him with the reality of it and how much he really did want to just take her right there against the counter. He gasped at the intensity of how much he really did actually want her and threw the pan onto the stove with a clatter. In one step he was in front of her, eyes level with one another due to her perch.

"It's all true," he said gruffly.

She opened her mouth to respond when her eyes caught sight of something over his shoulder and she froze.

Ice ran down his spine as he immediately turned to see an unwelcome yet familiar sight. The huge, solid bulk of a man with no fat on his muscle-ripped frame stood squarely in the center of the living room, his deep set blue eyes glaring at Draco. From his shaved head to his Muggle military boots, Handel Carico cut an imposing figure in the small room, his crossed arms showing forearms larger than Aerie's waist. Draco always hated him, but never more so than at that moment.

"I knew," the deep voice stated slowly, grating on Draco's nerves, "that given enough time and enough random visits you would drop your guard and reveal her. Your time is up, Malfoy. I am alerting the Ministry."

And he Disapparated before Draco could say anything. He could practically feel Aerie shaking in fury behind him.

"That was—?" she asked after a moment.

"Carico," he replied. "He has been hell bent on proving that I kidnapped you so that he can lock me up in Azkaban. Bloody brilliant."

"It's always one thing after another, isn't it?" she murmured, climbing down and standing beside him. "Not one moment of simplicity."

Her bare arm brushed his and he shoved aside his momentary fear to turn to her, grabbing the arm that touched him and pushing her against the fridge. "I will be damned if I get interrupted one more time by someone," he hissed, drawing his hands up her arms to fist in the curls at the nape of her neck.

Her breathing stopped as she looked up at him. "To do what?" she managed between clenched teeth, her eyes darting to his mouth and back up again, showing him that she knew exactly what he was talking about. But she apparently wanted to hear him say it. Very well, then.

Draco tipped her head back and looked at her, truly looked at her for a moment. Her dark curls were a mess and bunched in his fists, pulled back from her face; her olive skin tapered perfectly over her high cheekbones, soft as satin as he ran a thumb over them; her black eyes wide, dark lashes framing them as they stared at him with a fire that was quickly consuming him; and finally her mouth, lush and naturally swollen and ready for him to kiss. All over perfect and beautiful and everything he ever wanted or needed.

He brought his attention back to her eyes. "I am going to kiss you, Aeridia," he said, slowly and distinctly. "Kiss you like I've been wanting to every moment I've known you and even more since our wager."

The smile she gave him took his breath away. "Big talk," she said, her arms slipping around his waist and covering him in goose bumps. "I want a man of action."

The growl he gave then came from a place inside him that Draco had not been aware existed. It was possessive, it was happy, and it was a sound that showed how bloody turned on he was.

"_Immobulus!_" a furious voice shrieked from behind him and both he and Aerie froze unwillingly in their embrace.

"_Repello_."

Draco was instantly propelled backwards into the couch, where he found himself face to face with Pansy Parkinson. Unable to move, he stared in horror as this second unwelcome entity smiled at him nastily while she pointed the wand at Aerie. And she looked horrible. She was wearing a dress that was several sizes too small for her, cut off at high thigh and a garish lime green. Her hair and makeup were likened to his Aunt Bellatrix; if he could have shuddered, he would have.

"Do you like the dress, darling?" Parkinson asked, attempting to silken her voice and only grating on his ears. "I wore it for you."

He could not even glare at her through his frozeness.

She pouted at his lack of response and hiked up her dress a little more, doing absolutely nothing to improve her appearance. "_Incarcerous_," she hissed at Aerie after, binding her up so tightly and thoroughly that Aerie actually gasped through her immobility. Draco felt useless and completely livid by it.

Parkinson simpered at him. "Now, Draco. You know she is not good for you. She is both a liar and total bitch. Did you know she erased my memories?" She cackled delightedly and came toward him, straddling his hips, and kissing him quickly on his inert lips. "Don't worry, dear. Her spell over you will be broken soon."

She got up and glared at Aerie across the room. "It's my turn, whore. Let's see how _you_ like torture. Only difference between mine and yours is that mine will be _real_."

Draco struggled against his magical bonds, straining and not making any progress.

"Once this manipulative bitch is gone, Drakie," Parkinson continued, going and grabbing Aerie's bound shoulder and smiling at him dreamily, "you and I will be together."

With a twiddle of her fingers, she and Aerie disappeared with a crack and the spell on Draco ended.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"I'm going to kill that fucking _bitch_!" he roared as he launched himself up and dashed to his room.

With only a few minutes before Ministry officials stormed his apartment and dragged him off to Azkaban, Draco needed to get out of there so that he would have time to figure out what to do. He did not have much time and he only needed one thing from his room: Aerie's wand.

The Ministry may think he had already broken the law, but wait until they saw what he was going to do next.

Without a backward glance, Draco ran out of the building and down the street, cutting through yards and leaping over fences to get to the nearby wizarding village several streets over.

Aerie was gone again. _Again!_

From the village he Apparated through several towns, confusing his trail for those who would invariably follow him. It was only when he popped through six different towns that he stopped, giving himself a second to breathe and plan. He slouched against a brick wall in a secluded alley and clutched his head in his hands.

_Bloody hell_, could everything just stop being so difficult? What had she said? _Not one moment of simplicity_. She could not have been more right. He smacked the rough brick in frustration. Parkinson was going to torture her in retaliation for removing her memories. He hit the wall twice more. Did the Ministry not realize that the woman was entirely insane and should not have been released?

How was he going to find Aerie before it was too late? Parkinson may have already killed her.

_No_! The thought terrified him so much that when he hit the wall again he scraped the skin off his knuckles, blood immediately welling. With a hiss and several expletives, Draco dismissed the terrible idea. Aerie was the strongest person he knew. She survived two years in a coma and ten weeks under water. An hour's worth of torture she could handle. But damn if he was going to let Parkinson have more than that.

Sticking his bleeding knuckles in his mouth to stem off the sting, he suddenly remembered what Aerie had said the day before about how she found him. With nothing else to try and a heady level of desperation, Draco closed his eyes, searching within himself for the place he kept Aerie, a place that had grown from an overflowing file to a permanent fortress in his heart without his realizing it. And suddenly he knew how to find her. Just like he knew where she was when they were at school, the little light flickered awake after several years at rest. With a twist of his heart in tandem with the twist of her wand, he was gone.

He was standing in a dark room, dank with the reek of mold and excrement. Mice skittered away from his sudden appearance, tumbling over one another in their rush to hide in the furniture littering the room. It had once been a magnificent parlor, but many years of unused and solid enclosure from anything outside made for the perfect place for rodents to nest. His hand tightened around the blue wand as he quietly stepped forward toward a hall where light leaked in a weak effort to ease the darkness. A sudden piercing scream propelled him down the corridor without a moment's hesitation, and he burst into a blindingly bright bedroom.

"_Stupify!_" he instantly roared at the only standing figure.

Parkinson, her hands dripping in blood, flew back and cracked her head against the wall before collapsing on the floor.

Two large knives fell from her hands, the serration of the blades gleaming with red. Draco followed the trail to a pool of it at the base of chair where a bound Aerie panted with her head laying on the back of the chair, thin ribbons of blood trickling slowly down her body. Her wrists, feet, thighs, and chest were tightly lashed and were the only parts of her body not touched by the blades.

She had slits cut along almost every inch of her body, all carefully arranged to avoid major arteries. Her fingers were broken at every joint. Draco choked down the bile that rose in his throat as he came forward to untie her. She gave a little moan as he pulled away the last rope.

"I'm going to get you out of here," he whispered to her, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. She opened her eyes and peered at him dully.

"A knight in shining armor," she huffed quietly, blood seeping through her lips, and dropping her head onto the back of the chair again. "How cute."

She was not going to be able to stand. He needed to take care of Parkinson before he moved the woman.

"Don't try to move yet," he said, standing to deal with the unconscious sociopath.

"Couldn't if I tried," she hissed a chilling laugh.

Ice ripped down his spine. "What?"

"Under…" she attempted, but coughed, blood flowing more freely from the corners of her mouth. "Under my shirt."

With shaking hands, Draco lifted the hem of Aerie's shirt and forced back a gasp. Three large, heavy nails an inch in thickness pierced through her stomach; checking behind the chair, the tips of the nails cut through it and were bent to hold them in place. She could not move even if she wanted to.

A red cloud fell across his vision as he whipped her wand around with a slash and bound Parkinson to the wall. As he did, more blood arching across the white walls caught his eye and his heart dropped. The words "BITCH," "WHORE," and "CUNT" were crudely splashed on the three walls around him, and it fueled his fury even more. He was going to _end_ this. He was going to end _her_!

"_Ennervate_," he growled, waking her up.

Her eyes opened instantly and connected with his, a slow smile creeping across her face. "It's so nice to see you so soon, darling," she simpered. "Couldn't wait for me to come back?"

His anger escalated. "I can't believe they let you out of Azkaban," he shot back.

"I've been on my best behavior," she replied, shrugging. She looked over his shoulder and her smile widened. "Until now." Her giggle was manic.

"She didn't deserve this, Parkinson," he said, his grip tightening on the wand. He was trying desperately to calm himself when every part of his being was screaming for him to kill the bitch. His rage was boiling a few more notches. "She erased your memory at my request."

"That _whore_ tried to claim you for herself!" she shrieked, immediately struggling to free herself. "She tortured me with her mind games and used what I said to turn you against me. And then she made me forget all of it. She made my life a lie, thinking you and I were making love when it was nothing but a fake memory."

"All the while you were sleeping with my father!" he roared. How dare she make herself the victim in all this! And what she had just done to Aerie was ten times worse than anything that had happened to her. His ire was increasing exponentially.

"It doesn't matter now, Drakie," she cackled. "She can do no more damage to you and me. I have _broken_ her."

_What?_ Immediately, he turned his back on the psychopath, his concern focused entirely on Aerie. With a quick flick, he had the nails gently removed from her stomach. He knelt before her, touching her cheek again to bring her focus on him. Her black eyes met his slowly under heavily hooded lids, blood beginning to crust over half of her face.

"You're not broken," he said, more for himself than anyone else.

Aerie gave a half-hearted snort. "Please. Just kill the bitch and get me out of here."

"With pleasure." Having more anger in his heart than he ever thought possible, seeing the woman he loved nearly dead at the hands of this psychotic witch, the lid on his wrath exploded away and Draco pointed the wand with no hesitation, uttering two words that he never wanted to say more than before now: "_Avada Kedavra_."

The green flash wiped the life out of Pansy Parkinson instantly. He turned without looking back and gently gathered up the weak and bloody woman, alarming him at how light she had become. She winced as he did, head lolling on his shoulder. A twist of the wand and they were in the living room of his apartment. He had maybe two minutes before Aurors showed up to take him in. He set her carefully on the sofa and ran to his room, grabbed Aerie's healing kit, and rushed back.

"I can do it myself," she said, struggling to sit up, a rather large pool of blood collecting under her at an alarming rate. How much more could she lose?

"You shouldn't be moving," he replied, pushing her back down and pulling out the bottle of phoenix tears.

"Why," she sighed heavily, "in Merlin's name, are you helping me?"

He froze. How the bloody hell could she ask something like that? He gazed up at her in shocked confusion. "You know very well why," he replied.

And that was when he noticed how she was looking at him. She had _never_ stared at him like she was now; without feeling, without warmth. His heart plummeted.

"What did she do to you?" he whispered.

A loud crack echoed through the apartment as six Aurors suddenly appeared in the room, one of which was none other than the famous Harry Potter. Two of the men grabbed his arms, pulling him roughly back. He did not even bother to struggle as he went back to staring in horror at the woman he loved who no longer knew who he was.

"He saved me," Aerie tried to shout, her voice coming out hoarse. "Don't hurt him!"

Potter shot him a look of astonishment. "This man?" he asked her.

Carico stepped forward, blocking Draco's view of Aerie. "That man was the one responsible for your disappearance, Miss Greengrass."

"I don't even know him, sir," she managed to say rather strongly. "But I can tell you it's not his fault that I'm like this." She coughed again, and everyone gave her a moment to settle. She continued when she caught her breath, "A woman he called Parkinson did this."

Potter again looked at Draco in surprise. Draco nodded discreetly. Potter's eyebrows dipped in frustration and he turned back to Aerie. "Where is she now, Aerie?"

Draco was momentarily distracted to find that Potter knew Aerie.

"Dead," she panted softly. "By my wand. Check it if you don't believe me."

Potter shook his head. "Not necessary. I believe you. But we need to get you to St. Mungo's. You're losing a lot of blood."

"What about him?" she asked.

Carico stepped out of the way and Draco could see her pointing at him. Carico leered at him.

"He is going to Azkaban until his trial." Carico said, giving Draco an ugly smile.

"But he saved my life!" Aerie said. "Sir, that's not fair ground to imprison someone."

"I'm sorry, Aeridia, but he's violated his probation," Potter replied. "His magic was suspended until the trial and he has performed magic to save you. Also, you disappeared shortly after seeing him after waking up from your coma. Then you reappeared with him. He is the primary suspect in all of this."

"What are you talking about? I don't know him. How can he be the primary suspect?"

Everyone looked at her in confusion. Draco felt a pain in his chest like a knife. She did not know him.

"Parkinson erased her memories of me," he heard himself saying.

Potter and Carico groaned. "Wonderful. Your key witness is now useless?" Potter moaned.

"Not unless you can restore her memories," Draco snapped back. Potter was an idiot.

And the idiot glared at him.

"I learned how to restore memories during my training," Aerie supplied.

"Perfect," Potter replied and handed her her wand.

She stared at it a moment. Draco watched her eyes slowly roll to the back of her head and he only had a chance to cry out as she slumped on the sofa and caused everyone to jump into motion. Potter rushed forward and placed two fingers at her throat.

"Her pulse is weak; we have to get her to the hospital!" He pointed a finger at the men holding Draco. "Barnes, Hepland; take Malfoy to the office and leave him there. I will be there shortly to deal with him. Send an owl to Hermione Granger immediately after and have her meet me at St. Mungo's. Go!"

"You're not in charge here, Potter!" Carico growled, grabbing him by the arm.

"Aeridia needs to get to the hospital. Malfoy needs to meet with his lawyer, who just happens to be my best friend. Do you disagree?" Potter growled back.

Carico let go of him and turned to Draco. "Bind him tightly before you leave him," he said to Barnes and Hepland. "I don't want him able to scratch his own arse."

Draco restrained himself from rolling his eyes; Potter went ahead and rolled his own before grabbing Aerie's arm and Apparating out of the flat. Draco closed his eyes, heaving a small sigh as the two Aurors Apparated with him to Potter's office.

True to instruction, Draco was bound tightly and left to sit in the rather bland office of Harry Potter while he waited for the lawyer he had not realized had been appointed to him. Granger…wonderful. She was the only one he knew who had gone back for her seventh year at the newly reopened school. On top of that, she completed her requirements for magical law within that time as well. His mother must have requested her. She was definitely someone he could use on his side.

For over two hours he sat and waited, slowly worrying himself into a frenzy wondering about Aerie's state of well-being. When the door opened ten minutes later, Draco immediately blurted, without care for who walked in:

"Is she all right?"

It was the damn Golden Trio, followed by Longbottom and Carico. The only one who smiled at him was Granger, and the rest glared with undisguised loathing. That was fine…he hated them, too. But this whole situation had nothing to do with old rivalries, and he needed answers. He waited with little patience as the five of them pulled up chairs to surround him.

He had not seen Weasley, Granger, or Longbottom since the War. Longbottom still had a dental problem, Granger needed to learn that magic could detangle her mass of bushy hair, and Weasley was still a hand-me-down redhead. Even after noting these things with the same annoyance he always possessed, Draco could not summon up the same scathing derision his comments once held. Maybe it was the passing of time, but he thought it could really be attributed to the fact that he just did not care about them anymore. He had more important things to worry about.

"She healed rather nicely, Draco," Granger said once she was settled in front of him. "Very few scars."

"What about her memory?" he demanded, not even bothered that she had called him by his first name.

"That's where we hit a bit of a snag, I'm afraid," she replied, her brows dipping in slight frustration. "I normally would be able to lift this sort of spell, but Pansy seems to have used a more complex memory charm. We couldn't do a thing."

"But she said that she knew how to do it," he retorted, thoroughly shocked that the two brightest witches he knew had not been able to break the charm.

"That's the thing; Pansy also erased her memory of how to undo the charm. Aeridia is now trying to break it naturally."

"Rather convenient," Carico spat. "That the person you kidnapped can't remember it."

Draco bit down on his tongue to refrain from answering. Granger did it for him.

"The memory charm has nothing to do with Draco, Mr. Carico," she replied in the same haughty tone that Draco remembered from school. "We went to the location of Pansy's body and her wand is the one that conjured the spell. You were there. You can't deny it. The case speaks for itself; you have nothing further to say to him until his trial. I must ask you to leave."

Weasley, Longbottom, and Potter struggled to keep a straight face as Carico turned purple with rage. Draco went ahead and smiled broadly. _That's right, you plum-faced bastard_. Granger was definitely proving to be useful. He snickered lightly as Carico stomped from the office, slamming the door behind him.

"You were meant for this, Hermione," Weasley said, laughing openly, a sickeningly sappy smile on his face when he looked at her. Draco hoped and prayed he did not look like that when he looked at Aerie.

"Yeah, you basically told him to stuff it," Longbottom chuckled. "Wicked."

Granger waved it away and turned back to Draco. "The Ministry moved up your trial to Monday. This will give me a few days to put your case together. Aerie is spending the time trying to get her memory back."

"Where will I be in the meantime?" he asked, hoping what Carico had stated at his apartment was false, though the cold dread seeping into his heart already answered it before Potter did.

"Azkaban." Potter at least had the shame to look chagrined. "You violated your probation; we have no other choice."

Draco could not even be mad at him. He only had one request.

"Granger, what can you do about my cell location?"

"There will be five floors between you two. No reason for either of you to come into contact," she replied quickly.

Draco met her eyes in surprise. She smiled.

"I understand your circumstances, Draco. I wouldn't be a very good lawyer for you if I didn't know every detail. Your father is in isolation and I made a point to place you as far from him as possible."

He was begrudgingly impressed.

"You will not be permitted to meet with anyone during these four days before your trial. I will be meeting with Aeridia every day to help her retain her memory, and you will find out on Monday whether or not our efforts were successful," she continued.

"You and Aeridia are brilliant," Weasley commented. "You always have been. Parkinson was too stupid to try and outsmart you two. You'll figure it out."

"She probably learned the spell from someone at Azkaban, Ron," Granger replied.

"How on earth did she get the best of Aerie?" he asked, turning to Draco. "Her reflexes have always been spot on."

"She was distracted," Draco responded vaguely, remembering exactly why Aerie's guard had been down. Before Weasley could ask why, he asked instead, "How do you know her?"

"Who, Aeridia?" Weasley questioned. How stupid, who the bloody hell would they be talking about?

"Ginny," the four of them simultaneously replied. Draco blinked in confusion.

"Ginny's the reason why we know Aeridia. My sister has been secret pen pals with her since we were small," Weasley elaborated. "She comes from the Greengrass family, so of course they hated us. But Aeridia met Ginny and wanted to be friends. They've only seen each other a few times a year, but they managed to see one another without her family finding out. The first time I met her, she had Apparated to our house to play for the afternoon and I was really confused that a seven-year-old girl could Apparate. But she was pretty, so I let it go. What I remember most about that day was her stare…I knew there was something different about her, but it wasn't until years later that I was able to put a name to it. It was so _penetrating_, yet at the same time, it was like she was looking at something around me. It was weird."

Draco understood what he meant. When Aerie stared at auras it was slightly unnerving.

"The first summer I stayed with the Weasleys was when I met Aerie," Granger supplied. "Ginny introduced us and then asked us to answer a question for her. She asked, 'Divination: useful or useless? Explain.' Then she left us to debate. I had never talked for so long. It was wonderful to be able to discuss such a simple topic with such depth. Aeridia brought up many things I never considered. Ginny had to come out several hours later and tell us to shut it or we would let our dinner get cold."

Draco rolled his eyes; it would only be natural for Granger and Aerie to get into an in depth magical discussion at the age of eleven and nine.

"I only met Aerie on a few occasions," Harry continued. "Each time, she was with Ginny. In Hogmeade, at the Burrow, never at school. She would smile and wave, but we never really had a conversation. We knew each other, and that was enough."

A little part inside of Draco sighed in relief to know that Potter and Aerie had not been close. He did not quite know how he would handle it if they were.

"I don't know Aerie personally that well either," Longbottom picked up. "Ginny introduced us on the train at the beginning of our seventh year. What stood out to me was that though she knew everything that was going on at Hogwarts, she still came to school. I hadn't seen anyone that happy to be stuck in such an awful situation. I was amazed. She was never upset; she never got in trouble with the Death Eaters at school. I have always admired her for that."

"You fancied her, didn't you," Weasley jabbed, a statement rather than a question, elbowing him in the ribs. Potter laughed.

Longbottom's face flushed lightly. "You would have too if you had been there. You were running through the countryside. You're the one who missed out, mate. I'll admit, though," he added, catching Draco's eye, "I was pretty jealous that you got to be the Head with her. Getting to live with her day in and day out. If I had known that she, as a fifth year, was going to be Head Girl, I would have tried harder to be the Head Boy with her."

Draco was stunned. Longbottom had been jealous of him?

"Why didn't you say anything to her?" Granger asked.

Longbottom scoffed good-naturedly. "It was obvious that she fancied Draco. Anyone would have to be blind not to see it. Malfoy, you were just as much interested in her, though you put on a good face."

Well, Longbottom was full of surprises today. Not just a mass of idiocy then. Interesting.

"Did you know Aeridia before she became Head Girl, Malfoy?" Weasley inquired, completely benign in his question.

"As your lawyer, I'm going to have to ask you not to answer that question, Draco," Granger answered for him before he could even open his mouth. "Those questions will be answered at the trial on Monday, Ron; you may hear them then if you decide to show."

"Well, I have to, don't I?" Weasley rejoined. "I'm an Auror. We're required to be there."

Granger placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Then you can wait."

Draco nearly gagged at the lovey-dovey looks between them. Potter stood immediately and unbound Draco from the chair.

"I guess we should take you to Azkaban," he said.

"Put me to sleep, Potter," Draco immediately demanded. Four days in Azkaban would drive him crazy. "Wake me up in time for the trial."

The four others regarded him quietly for a moment.

"It _would_ prevent contamination of the case," Granger argued slowly.

Draco nodded emphatically.

Potter shrugged. "If that's what's best." He grabbed Draco's arm and Apparated them both to a quiet, dank, black marble hall, in front of a barred door of a deep chrome color. The door swung inward to reveal one simple cot.

Draco went and sat on the bed. "Knock me out, Potter."

And it was a quick flick of his wand that Draco passed out.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

When Draco awoke after what felt like mere moments later, he stared around the small, grimly gray cell and mentally cursed Potter when he realized no one was there to take him to his trial. Now he was awake and he was going to have to sit and wait anxiously for his time to leave…whenever that would be. He grumbled incoherently under his breath, wishing that he had told Granger to put him to sleep to guarantee the success of spell. With no windows to the outside world, Draco had no ability to determine the time, and there were certainly no guards wandering down the hall at the moment.

The walls gleamed wetly like slick chrome, nicked here and there with the scratches of prisoners past. Tally marks lined the wall behind him, shadowed black by the light filtering in through the bars. His cot was uncomfortable, but he had not expected anything less.

He folded his arms under his head and sighed heavily. This was what he did _not_ want: time to sit and think by himself.

"You're not alone," a familiar voice echoed into his chamber, causing his heart to stop and for him to lurch toward the bars of his door.

Leaning against the wall just to the left of the door stood the one person he had not expected.

"What are you doing here, Matthews?" he asked with great control, their eyes meeting.

From her gray business suit to her stiletto pumps, Aerie exuded practicality and an aloofness that made him realize that she still did not recognize him. The knife in his heart twisted. For one of the only moments he would ever think so, Draco was thoroughly glad that he had committed murder. Parkinson was insane. That she would vindictively act against Aerie because of her grudge by torture and memory loss gave him the justification he needed.

Aerie stood before him without a shred of recognition in her eyes. She pushed away from the wall and placed a hand on her hip, staring at him with her black eyes, glancing over his face in a very matter-of-fact way.

"No one else in the world knows that I was once a Matthews," she said, her face devoid of any emotion.

"You made it very clear to your mother that my memories would not be touched," he replied, mirroring her stance against the bars. "Why did you wake me up?" Because he knew that it could only have been she who had done so.

"I just gave my testimony at your trial. Harry will be coming to get you soon, and I thought that maybe seeing you again might awaken something."

She paused, searching his face again, a small frown forming between her brows the only indication that she was emotionally involved in the moment. She pursed her lips a second later.

"And it hasn't," he stated flatly.

"Obviously," she sighed, dropping her gaze to glare at the floor, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "I don't want to admit it, but Parkinson was good. I can't remember a single thing about memory charms and looking at you means nothing. It's rather frustrating."

_Rather frustrating?_ He demanded silently. How about painfully horrible, or the final damn straw on the metaphorical camel's back?

"I should be feeling as angry as you," she said, meeting his eyes. He almost flinched at the remoteness. "I'll admit you're very attractive, but that's about it. I'm sorry, Draco."

Even his name sounded dead. The consonants snapped harshly in his ears.

"I stated the facts as I remembered them," she continued. "You saved my life. And for that I am extremely grateful. I don't think you kidnapped me; you were rather invested in my well-being to want to do that. We're just going to have to look past these unfortunate circumstances."

Everything she was saying was too politically correct, too moderated, and far too harshly impersonal. Rather invested? Her well-being? _Unfortunate circumstances_? How the bloody hell was he supposed to look past all of this? She made it sound like he had dropped an ice cream cone on the ground and was having a fit.

"So you're just going to give up, Johnny?" he hissed, his eyes meeting her defiantly.

"Easy there, mate," she replied instantly, hands rising in defense. "I've tried all that I can. I've been to my parents—both sets of them whether they think I'm their daughter or not—and I've gotten nothing. I've been to your mother, who has shown me the contract. I've been to Hogwarts and talked with the portraits of Albus and Severus. Hermione and I have poured over every damn book we could get our hands on and still we have found nothing. But it appears I have been rather busy. Coming to see you has been the last resort. And who the hell is Johnny?"

"I've been calling you that since the day we met," Draco sighed, slumping to the floor and leaning his back against the bars. "So you think you've exhausted every avenue?"

She remained standing, crossing her arms and looking down her nose at him. "As far as I can tell. Talking with you is not helping. It is only making you angry."

"And what is it making you?"

"More curious," she replied with a shrug.

His jaw dropped unbidden.

"Your emotions are shifting violently. Very interesting." Her eyes unfocused as she stared at him, indicating that she was observing his aura. "It's black and blue and red, but at the same time it's soft and white."

"We need to stop talking about the present and my aura," he retorted, picking up his jaw. "We should be talking about the past."

"Yes, about that. Simple everyday occurrences won't be enough to break this charm," she said with a slight note of condescension. "So unless you have something significant to remind me of, this will not work."

He scoffed. Oh, he had significant. Every single thing he could think about was significant.

"Like what?" she demanded with disdain.

"Like the fact that up until a few days ago you were in love with me!" he spat out rashly, immediately regretting it when her jaw dropped. He had not meant for that to be the first memory to try and remind her of, but her superciliousness had gotten under his skin. For several minutes they stared at one another.

She broke eye contact first. "No one that I've talked to mentioned that."

"You've never discussed it with anyone," he replied. "And it wasn't their place to say anything."

"And your feelings?"

"We've never discussed them either. And we're not going to now. Though I am sure you are able to read them yourself."

"The white, yes," she replied vaguely. "All right, we'll stop talking about it."

They were uncomfortably silent for several more minutes until Aerie threw back her shoulders and changed the subject.

"To give you an idea on where my memories are now, I will tell you that I don't remember most of the last three and half years. Since I was supposedly your protector, I spent most of my time shadowing you. After Uncle Severus told me of Uncle Albus' death, my brain has a blank from then until my trips to Glory during the final battle. I don't remember the final battle but I do remember being in a coma. I remember going to Glory again and getting my powers back. Then everything is blank until the torture."

"That's a pretty thorough eradication," he drawled, completely furious at Parkinson.

"And most people haven't been able to provide much to fill in those blanks."

"Apparently that's my job."

She waited expectantly for him to continue. He gave her a glare. "How, in Merlin's name, would you have me sum up the past three and half years in a few minutes, Ma—Greengrass?" He cursed himself for fumbling on the unfamiliar last name, but damn if he was going to call her by her preferable name.

"Why not? You have time."

"The amount of detail I have won't be enough," he shot back. "I can't tell you what you went through to protect me because I have no idea what lengths you went to."

She knelt down until they were eye level. "According to your mother, I went pretty far. I couldn't at the time understand why, but now that you say that I was in love with you, it makes sense." Her head tilted to the left as she contemplated, looking at him curiously. "Although I don't see it. I don't like men with long hair."

"What?" His hand automatically went up to brush through his blond locks. It may have been longer than he usually kept it, but it was not out of control. "My hair is fine."

"You need a haircut."

He rolled his eyes. Of all the things… "And you need your memory back."

"I'm well aware of that fact."

"How are you doing on your healing?" he asked, kicking himself for not asking that immediately.

Aerie paused, her thumb nail in the process of being chewed off, making Draco ache at seeing the familiar bad habit. He clenched his hands tightly. She shuddered as she placed a protective hand at her stomach. "I'm going to have scars."

His fury exploded as he leapt up, striding away from her and slamming his fists into the far wall. His fault. He should have gotten to her sooner. Closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths to calm himself.

She was quiet as he slowly relaxed and sat on the bed, her head to side and watching in fascination with her hand still wrapped around her middle. He folded his hands carefully and looked her in the eye.

"I hadn't realized that love was so volatile," she said a few moments later. "I'm not sure I want that back."

"If you don't want to be your old self, then why are you still here?" he replied. This was getting out of hand. He could not handle this Aerie for very much longer.

"It—"

"What are you doing here, Aeridia?" Potter's voice demanded down the hall.

Aerie turned quickly in surprise, a blush blossoming on her face. "Harry! Oh, hell."

His steps were silent as he suddenly appeared in the doorway of Draco's cell.

"How did you get past security?" he asked, coming up and looming over Aerie.

Draco bristled protectively, instinct kicking in.

He should not have worried because Aerie did not even flinch but rather raised a brow at Potter's furious expression a few inches from her. "Are you seriously asking me that? You know I can Apparate anywhere."

"Except the Room of Requirement," Draco supplied, getting up and going towards the door, not liking their proximity to one another.

Aerie looked at him in surprise. "Really? Well that's new."

Potter rolled his eyes and stepped back, crossing his arms. "I came here early at Hermione's request. She seemed to think you would be here, and of course she was right. Get out of here before Carico gets here. Hermione wants to see you back at the trial."

"Why?"

"She didn't tell me. Just go."

Without giving Draco a backwards glance, Aerie popped out of view just as the heavy footsteps of Carico thundered down the hall.

"Are her memories back?" Potter asked quietly.

"No," Draco bit sourly.

"Damn."

Neither of them said anything else while Carico tromped up to them, sneering at Draco through the bars. "I will be seeing you back in this cell before the day is out, Malfoy. I just gave my testimony and it isn't looking good for you at all."

Draco refrained from commenting as Potter unlocked the door, but did not restrain the glare of hatred for the man. He saw Potter roll his eyes in his periphery as he walked out of the cell. Both Aurors grabbed his arm and Apparated them to the Ministry.

"See you inside, Malfoy," Carico snickered as they appeared and he let go of Draco's arm, sliding down the hallway.

Potter directed him to a small washroom in the opposite direction.

"We have some clothes for you to change into before you go in," Potter explained. "I'll be outside."

Draco did not respond as the door shut behind him. One of his suits from his apartment hung by a large mirror and he wasted no time washing up and putting it on. He immediately felt better, but it did not take away from the slight dread that was convalescing in his stomach and making his head hurt. He quickly fingered his hair out of his face and turned away from the mirror before he stressed about how long his hair had gotten, now that Aerie had made him aware of it. It might not even matter if this trial did not go well; if he lost, then he would not be getting a haircut for an indeterminate amount of time.

He stepped out of the room and allowed Potter to lead him back down the hall. He took a deep breath outside the door.

And it did not matter that they were once iniquitous enemies, their shared past meaning nothing at this moment when Potter looked him in the eye and told him sincerely, "Good luck in there, Malfoy."

Draco nodded once. "Thanks, Potter."

Without another word, Potter opened the door and Draco stepped through.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Made to sit under the scrutiny of the entire Council of Magical Law in a single uncomfortable high-backed chair in the center of the circular room, Draco barely settled himself when they began.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," the deep voice of a wizened old wizard intoned from his seat amidst the men and women. "You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law so that we may pass judgment on you for crimes during the Second Great Wizarding War against witches and wizards alike, under the heinous order of one Lord Voldemort, and for the kidnapping and torture of one Astoria Aeridia Greengrass."

Draco bristled mightily under the accusations and made direct eye contact with the man.

"We have heard testimony from the following individuals on your behalf," a witch two rows below the wizard continued. "Minerva McGonagall, Narcissa Malfoy, Mary Kittirick, your representative Hermione Granger, and finally a thoroughly compromised Astoria Greengrass. It is our desire to hear your testimony before we pass judgment. How do you plead?"

"I plead not guilty on all counts," Draco replied after clearing his throat.

All that was heard for two heartbeats was the sound of a quill scratching on parchment as a little wizard recorded the entire proceeding.

"Explain," another witch demanded.

Having had no time to prepare a statement, Draco succinctly stated the facts as he knew them. "I was threatened by the Dark Lord and my own father to participate in actions against my will or my mother would have been killed," he said. "I had absolutely no choice in the matter. Aeridia, as she likes to be called, was contracted by my mother to protect me during my final year at Hogwarts leading up to the final battle. After she was attacked and placed under a magical coma, she awoke, and disappeared. She reappeared at my loft some ten weeks later, seen by Handel Carico, and promptly taken again by Pansy Parkinson. I followed them and rescued Aeridia from Parkinson, bringing her back to my apartment just before the Aurors showed up."

A young woman, barely older than he, stood up in the fourth row. "These circumstances seem too convenient for you since the young woman taken can no longer recognize you."

Draco filled with dread.

"Members of the Council," Granger's voice suddenly interjected, and Draco turned to see her walk up to his side. "I suggest we bring in the woman in question to allow you a chance to view their relationship first hand."

"Agreed," the first wizard permitted, waving his wand at the door Draco entered.

Draco stood swiftly in surprise when he heard her distinctive walk as her heels clicked across the marble floor and stopped to his other side. He faced her, realizing that she had not been made aware of this beforehand by her carefully controlled anger.

"This can be fixed," he hissed, knowing the little wizard off to his right was transcribing every word uttered in the trial room.

One meter separated them, but the distance seemed far more tremendous, much farther than the bars of his cell had been between them.

"You know me, Aeridia," he said quietly, desperately to her.

"You say that, Draco," she replied, and damn her, her eyes radiated pity. "Everyone has been saying that. I came to this trial because Hermione said that I needed to be here. But I don't understand what any of this is supposed to do to make me remember anything. This is a failing last resort." She darted a glare at Hermione, pointedly accusatory.

Forgetting about the people in the room watching and waiting for the proper reaction, Draco stepped forward. "It's not the trial. It's me. You are supposed to remember me. Your job as a protector was me."

"Talking with you hasn't helped me in the least. We already knew that," she bit back. "What else do you expect me to do here besides give my testimony and hope it will trigger something? Your importance isn't registering with me."

A wild thought crossed Draco's mind, and with desperation, he grasped it. "Kiss me," he blurted. "You will kiss me. Then you will see how important I am."

Her eyes widened in shock. "You're crossing a line, sir."

He did not care. "Draw a new one." And then he grabbed her face in his hands, kissing her right there in front of the whole Council.

There was a collective gasp in the room, but Draco only had attention for the woman struggling in his arms. She was pushing against his chest, and he held on that much tighter, moving one hand to cradle the back of her head and sweeping her mouth open with his tongue. Two heartrendingly solid seconds passed with her resisting, putting up an excellent fight before she suddenly gasped and froze, her effort melting completely away. His heart pounding in his chest, Draco eased back from her mouth and opened his eyes, feeling her clutch his shirt in her fists. She was staring at him, tears welling.

"Draco?" she breathed against his lips, his name never sounding so glorious than at that moment. This was his Aerie.

With a laugh, he swept her up in his arms, crashing their lips together once more, this time with her a willing participant. More than three years had passed since they last did this, and he poured every ounce of desire he had been withholding into that moment. She was sweet, she was warm, she was Aerie. The love of his life. The woman who helped him through everything. Aerie. Aerie with her arms around his neck. Aerie with her hands deep in his hair. Aerie fused to his mouth where, if he had his way, she would never leave.

But reality had means of getting in the way. A gentle cough slowly drew them apart; arms still around each other, eyes open now but locked on one another. Aerie smiled brilliantly at him. His answering smile was immediate and equally as bright. What on earth could go wrong now that she was here with him? Here with him in both body _and_ mind.

"Members of the Council," she panted quietly, still gazing intently at him with no worry that she would not be heard, "I state to you now that I am no longer under the control of the memory charm. This man did _not_ kidnap me, did _not_ torture me, and did _not_ erase my memory. He saved my life, which I told you even under the effects of the memory charm. The violation of his probation was to save me; I take full responsibility for his actions. He has almost two and half years of perfect behavior that should be taken into account. I was his protector during the year leading up to the Final Battle at Hogwarts. Everything that Narcissa Malfoy, Minerva McGonagall, Hermione Granger, and Mary Kittirick stated is true."

She looked away from him in that moment to make eye contact with the Council. Draco stared at the curve of her neck to where it met the dip of her collarbone. It took all he could not to bend down and kiss it. He settled for tightening his grip on her, loving the solid feel of her waist and the camber of her back in his hands.

"Well, then," the first wizard started, clearing his throat and bringing Draco's focus forward, "in light of the new evidence brought to our attention, we the Council of Magical Law find Draco Lucius Malfoy not guilty of the crimes presented against him and hereby end his probation with full restoration of his magic and assets. This ends the trial."

Draco's mind went blank as his jaw dropped. Not guilty. Relief rushed through him, clouding his vision and muffling his ears as he stared at the witches and wizards. Not guilty. Years of waiting, years of stress, and years of no magic all culminated in this moment. Not guilty! He was a wizard again. He was innocent and the Council believed it. He was free!

Aerie's arms tightening around his neck brought him back and he smiled widely at her as the Council gathered their things and shuffled quickly out of the room. A hand on his shoulder made him turn to see Granger standing there with an equally happy smile.

"Congratulations, Draco," she said with full sincerity.

"Thank you, Granger," he replied with identical fervor.

She pointed out the door. "There are people waiting outside for you."

Aerie let go of him long enough to hug her. "You were fantastic, Hermione," she said. "Thank you for all of your help."

"You always knew I was going to be in Magical Law, Aerie, even if I didn't at all. This is me thanking you. And I figured," she added with a lusty wink at her friend before continuing, "that there might have been one final way of getting your memory back. I'm just glad that Draco thought of it." And she walked away.

Aerie stepped back and wrapped an arm around his waist, looking up at him with a twinkle in her eye. "Your mother is coming and wants to take you home. You better go to her and let her know you're free so that she can cook you your favorite meal."

"You're coming as well," Draco insisted. He wrapped a hand around the base of her neck and rested his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, marveling in it all. He was free and she was here.

She placed a hand on his cheek and sighed happily.

"After I finish some things here I can go with you," she replied a few seconds later. "Now that I have my memory back, I need to give my statement."

Their eyes opened simultaneously and met, causing Draco's heart to stutter at the warmth that he was beyond happy to see radiating from her glittering black eyes.

"I will come with you," he said, a smile permanently tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I don't want you out of my sight."

She smiled at him. "Fine by me."

And it was over. Years of waiting in anxiousness and the trial barely lasted fifteen minutes. When Draco finally turned to face the back of the room, his arm securely wrapped around Aerie's shoulders, the first person he noticed was Carico. He was standing in the front row of the Aurors, hands gripping the railing in white-knuckled fury, a glare fixed on Draco. Draco let his smile widen.

"Easy, Draco," Aerie murmured. "Don't instigate him too much. He's trying to control his temper."

"I am completely justified in instigating him, Johnny," he murmured in return, propelling the two of them out of the room. "He's been making my life a living hell. I won. He needs to recognize that."

"Oh, he recognizes it," she chuckled. "He just doesn't like it."

"He can just not like it somewhere else. I will be happy to never see his face again. It's enough to give someone nightmares."

She continued to laugh quietly, the hand she had around his waist slowly running up and down his side and thoroughly distracting him as they made their way to the main floor of the Ministry where his mother stood, stoic as ever.

"I have never seen her so happy," Aerie breathed softly, stopping her torturously lovely trailing hand.

"Are you being sarcastic?" he demanded, raising a brow at her.

"No; her aura is radiating, Draco! It's almost palpable."

"Then let us leave so that someone doesn't notice it."

"Let me do one thing first. I will be right back."

She broke away before he could say anything, throwing a brilliant smile over her shoulder to him before directing her attention to a group of Aurors at the other side of the lobby. He watched as she pulled Potter out of the crowd. She hugged him and began talking rapidly, her hands gesticulating with her words. Potter nodded, a smile growing.

Draco turned to his mother, seeing one tear run down her cheek.

"Draco," she said.

"It's over, Mother," he replied with a smile.

She choked and collapsed into his chest, sobs raking through her, arms wrapping around his waist and clinging tightly in the only time she had ever shown affection for him publicly. He froze for an instant before dropping his arms around her shoulders, surprised but pleased, rubbing a hand across her back as she cried in joy. He looked over to Aerie and Potter.

Aerie, at that second, waved her hand and conjured a small vial, then handed it to Potter. Seeing her placing a finger to her temple, Draco suddenly knew what she was doing and was flabbergasted. The small sliver of translucent memory pulled from her mind confirmed the shock as she placed it in the vial. She said one last thing that made Potter laugh and respond in kind and he placed the vial gently in his inner coat pocket. Aerie began to walk back just as his mother pulled away, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

"I apologize," she said.

"You were equally invested in this trial," he replied, waving dismissively.

Aerie came up right at that moment, smiling at them both.

"Why did you give your memories to Potter?" he asked her.

"I told him there were too many details to write and he needed to see it for himself. It's my statement. Don't worry; I promised to hurt him if he didn't return them precisely as they were when he was done." She smirked. His concern disappeared.

"Are you ready to go home, Draco?" his mother asked.

Both women took one of his hands. He raised a brow to Aerie who nodded once. He tightened his grip on both of them.

"More than you know."


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Do You Understand?

The first thing he noticed was how dazzling it was in the entrance hall. Never in his life had Malfoy Manor been bright enough to see every corner of any room. It was almost a requirement for there to be shadows lurking and a creepy sense of the unknown hiding in the closets. But this! Draco had not been permitted to return to the Manor due to the limits of his probation and his mother had certainly been busy during that time. All of the heavy black curtains had been replaced with emerald green and pulled back to let the light shine through the floor to ceiling windows. The Persian rugs, once dark in their blood red colors had been replaced with others of a lighter persuasion. The white marble of walls shown like pearl and Draco could not get over how different his house looked. For the first time in his life, he was not dreading being here and he let his shoulders relax.

His mother headed off towards the dining room. "Wander around to see the changes, Draco. I am going to begin dinner. I will call for you when it's ready."

Aerie immediately headed in the same direction, toward the west wing where the library, music rooms, kitchen, and other miscellaneous rooms such as guest quarters were located. Draco wandered after her, watching her gracefully move from room to room, just keeping enough focus on the changes in the house.

"When I was your invisible shadow I never came to this side of the house," she said as they passed through the dining room. "The Death Eaters were on this side and I didn't want to risk it. Except for the library. I definitely had to go in the library."

He smirked. Of course she did.

Every room had been transformed. Aerie peeked into every guest room, exclaimed over the colors, gasped at the new furniture in the library, and practically drooled over the grand piano in the music room. When they meandered their way over to the east wing Aerie stopped and turned to him.

"I should be letting you give me the tour," she said with a sheepish grin. "I'm walking around as if I own the place. I apologize."

"We're halfway through the house and you only just _now_ realize that?" he replied with a grin.

"Oh, shut it and show me the rest."

"All that's left are the bedrooms," he drawled with a raised brow.

"And the offices," she shot back with an eye roll.

"Ending with my room."

"I think I've seen enough."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "In all seriousness, we should see what my mother has changed in the family room."

Her eyes lit up. "The room with the portraits?"

He bowed and gestured for her to go first. She maintained her dignity and went on, providing him with a delectable view of her saunter. She peered over her shoulder at him, curls tumbling seductively down her back, and smiled.

A rush of warmth that he had not felt in a long time swept through him, making him lose his train of thought. As she stopped to wait for him to catch up before heading up the stairs, Draco laced their fingers together. Her smile widened. Looking up at him she asked, "Is it good to be home?"

"It's good to have you here," he replied, leading the way up the steps.

"It's wonderful to be here," she sighed, tightening her grip.

The warmth deepened at her words. This was the way things were supposed to be. It was about damn time, too. How long had it been since life was normal? Thinking back, Draco could not find a time.

"It's comforting, isn't it?" she asked softly.

He looked down at her in question.

"That life is normal now," she answered. "The look suits you, by the way."

"Reading my aura again?" They had reached the family room, and he opened the door, allowing her to enter first.

"It's a soft green. Light, flowing. Perfectly content. And a solid white undertone."

Her attention was distracted by the magnitude of the portraits lining the room. It was more like a corridor with the faces of every Malfoy sitting in disgust in their gold frames. Aerie laughed.

"Too much to expect them to be any happier."

"They are Malfoys. They were never happy to begin with."

Aerie laughed again and it echoed through the room. "You need to get your portrait up there and change the dynamic, Draco."

She came back over to him and stood inspecting the room critically. He watched her, feeling the perfect contentedness that she had described him.

"Despite the dreariness of your ancestors, your mother did an excellent job lightening the atmosphere in here."

Not wanting to be any further from her, Draco placed his hands on her shoulders and rested his chin on the top of her head. He could almost feel her smile as she reached up and gripped his hands.

"Take your lovesick affair and do it elsewhere," the voice of Brutus Malfoy rang harshly.

Draco rolled his eyes at the old portrait. "Jealous, old man?" Yet he pulled Aerie away.

"It is unseemly for a Malfoy to be so emotional!" his ancestor shouted after them harshly.

"I find it rather dashing," Aerie argued, wrapping an arm around his waist once Draco shut the door behind them.

His arm dropped around her shoulders and he smiled. "Not very far from the norm, my being dashing."

She poked him in the nose teasingly. "Neither is arrogance."

He placed a hand over his heart and put on an air of hurt. "I think you mean confidence, Johnny."

Her smirk was wicked and made the heart under his hand race. "Cocky twit."

He immediately backed her into the wall, arms boxing her in. Taking a single curl, he wrapped it around his finger and brought it to his lips. "Yes, I am a cocky twit. And you, my dear, are still my teasing Delphian."

Her black eyes glittered. "You called me that the day you met me. And the last time you had me in this position, you couldn't keep your hands off me. Told me I was addictive."

Draco pressed forward, making his body flush against hers. She gasped, hands trapped between them on his chest. His nose brushed hers and he struggled to keep his thoughts straight in his head at the contact. "I believe," he started and paused to keep his comment coherent. The curve of her hip against his hand was distracting him and he continued, "That was the night you surprised me by saying I had giving you your first kiss."

His vision fogged as she took a deep breath, making her breasts swell against him. "That was also the night that you proved to be very skilled at settling bets." Her eyes locked on his mouth, lids hooding with desire.

All heat was steadily flowing south as his own eyes fixed on the curve of her lips.

"You haven't grown up at all, have you?" she whispered, biting her lip. "Still the same horny teenager."

He tightened his grip on her waist and pressed his hips forward teasingly. "On the contrary, I have grown quite a bit," he said softly.

"A hard-on _hardly_ counts as personal growth," she shot back with a small giggle.

"I disagree."

A familiar cough at the end of the hall caused him to pull both of them away from the wall with a start. His mother stood with a hand on her hip, dressed in an elegant dark green dinner gown, trying to hide a smile as Aerie hid him from view. Both he and Aerie smiled sheepishly at her.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes so make yourselves presentable," Narcissa attempted to say with an emotionless expression, but failed as she turned to walk away; a smirk etched itself across her face as she turned a corner.

Aerie turned to him slowly and raised a brow, scrutinizing him. "We might need more than a few minutes to make you presentable, Draco."

A cold shower definitely needed to happen. He smirked at her. "Care to join me?"

She stepped back and waved a hand, causing her entire appearance to change. His eyes narrowed appreciatively. She was now in a deep blue, sequined dinner gown, hair fixed in a bun. "I'm not the one who needs the cold shower." She giggled. "I will see you down at dinner."

He watched her walk away before heading up to his room.

When he opened his door, he was rather glad to see that his mother had not done anything to change it. Since his décor had been minimalistic to begin with, she would have had to add to it, and that would have been unnecessary. He walked into his bathroom and turned on the shower.

The only differences in here were the towels. Instead of black, the soft material was white, which immediately lightened the whole room. Draco stood in front of the mirror while he removed his clothes, frowning at his appearance. His hair was too long. With a flick of his wand he trimmed it to his preferences and went to the shower.

The cool water calmed his fevered skin, and tamed the fire that had spread. That had been rather embarrassing. He had lost his control with Aerie near him. Though his mother did not appear mortified by the sight of her son nearly shagging the woman in the hallway, he was ashamed of himself that he could not control his hormones. Aerie had been right; he was still a horny teenager.

He shut the water off and went to towel off, changing into a suit quickly. As he was knotting his tie, a splash of color out of his periphery caught his eye and he exhaled in surprise. There, on the wall to the left of the door stretched the forest scene that Aerie had painted that had been hanging in the common room of their Head Suite back at Hogwarts. How had his mother gotten a hold of it? He was sure that it had been destroyed. He gently touched the brush strokes, love welling and feeling fully content. Life was perfect. He smiled before making his way downstairs.

Dinner was perfect. The company was perfect. The atmosphere was perfect. Everything was perfect. Aerie was in a perpetually good mood. She could not keep the smile off her face and she could see her mood reflected on the faces of the wonderful individuals sitting in front and to the left of her. Not one of them spoke, but then again, there was no need to say a word. Each was perfectly content to sit in silence and marvel that the difficulties had finally passed.

She kept catching and locking eyes with Draco across the table as he would take sips of his wine, his eyes darkening every time and causing a lump to form in her throat, making it difficult to swallow. Though she was thoroughly enjoying herself here at dinner, her stomach was in a flurry of anticipation waiting to get him alone and finish what they had started in the hall before Narcissa had interrupted. She could tell he was distracted as well. As she licked her lips at one point, his eyes honed in on the movement and his pupils dilated immediately, fork frozen on its path to his mouth. Her blood thrummed and she grinned slightly.

"For the love of Merlin!" Narcissa erupted suddenly, shattering the silence and startling both Aerie and Draco. They looked at her in alarm at her exclamation as she sighed with barely concealed amusement.

Both she and Draco exchanged a quick confused glance before turning back to Narcissa, waiting for her to continue. His mother slowly gazed from one to the other before saying, "I would like to say that your drooling is due to my exquisite culinary skills, but I am not so blind in my old age as you would think. You are both excused from the table."

Aerie flushed with hot embarrassment as she and Draco stood simultaneously. Draco kissed his mother on the cheek and Aerie made the proper compliments before Draco grabbed her hand, swiftly pulling her out of the dining room.

She giggled breathlessly as the door closed behind them. With a twist, she Apparated them upstairs to Draco's room and he let out a lighthearted laugh at the sudden displacement. Wrapping both arms around her waist, he pulled her into his embrace and buried his nose in her hair, taking a deep breath. Aerie rested her hands on his shoulders.

"Nothing but smooth sailing ahead," she said with conviction.

He froze and pulled back to look at her. "Is that your Sight saying that? Or is that just a hope? Because I don't think you can handle anything but smooth sailing."

"My Sight doesn't do prophecies, Draco. And I can handle anything." She rolled her eyes.

"You should not have to handle anything else. You've been through quite enough."

"Oh, and you haven't?" she demanded.

"What I have been through does not even compare," he said darkly, tightening his grip on her waist.

His grip and his words reminded her of Parkinson and she withdrew into herself just thinking about it. Her smile slipped slightly as she remembered the blood and the pain and the never ending horror of it all. Draco grabbed her face in panic as she let out an uncontrolled moan.

"Hey, Aeridia, stay with me," he ordered, trying to bring her focus back to the present as the memory of the smell of blood and sweat permeated her senses. "It's over. You're safe. It's done. Don't leave."

"She's gone. We're here. We're together," she whispered, forcibly pushing out the thoughts. Parkinson was gone. They were here in Malfoy Manor. They were together at last. This last thought was what cut through the red fog and allowed her to focus her eyes on him.

"Exactly," Draco sighed in relief when their eyes connected. "We're together. She is never coming back."

She smiled softly and reached up to cradle his face as he was hers. "You saw to that. You saved me."

"I had no choice, Aerie," he whispered, tracing a thumb over her cheek and staring at her with unbridled love and caring that dashed through the lingering fear and made her heart stop. He smiled the gentlest smile she had ever seen. Yet it was also the most heartbreakingly sad smile she had ever seen him give. "I could not have moved on if she had taken you from me. When you were in a coma I at least had an inkling that you would come out of it. When you were in Glory I knew that you were alive and well and fighting to come back. When Parkinson appeared and stole you away, I knew that unless I came for you then you would never come home. I could not let that happen. Don't you understand? I physically _could not_ let that happen."

He tenderly wiped away a tear that she had not realized had trickled down her cheek. She was speechless. His smile eased slightly after his statement.

"I remember saying to you once that you should have nothing to do with me," he continued, "That your being around me was the worst thing you could possibly do. You smiled a smile that has been etched in my mind since that day at Hogwarts, Aeridia, and you stated—quite frankly I might add—a sentence that realigned the meaning of my world. So let me make it short and simple for you, as well. I love you."

Though Aerie had known this for quite some time, had read it in his aura and every smile he gave her, it still caused her heart to drop to the pit of her stomach to hear it vocalized for the first time. She could not move, she could not breathe, she could not respond except for the radiant and silly smile that she was sure was blooming across her face at that moment. And though Draco had tried to make it short and simple, he was on a roll and went on, his grip on her waist tightening and a hand trailing around to hold the back of her head.

"I have been an irrational fool around you just as I have accused you of being with me. Neither of us has been guided by reason. But you have to know that I could not have lived without you any more than I could live without air. Holding you here, right now, I hold everything that I need. The Ministry took my magic and my money, but I was surprised at how little I cared about that. You were alive and breathing at that hospital and I was allowed to do what I could to make you continue to do that. It was my greatest joy to be able to help you even a little after the untold amount of time you spent protecting me during the War. I love you, Aeridia Matthews, for all that you're a selfless, stubborn, and impossible woman."

Aerie laughed through her tears. "Do I have to follow that? I don't know that I can express everything quite as well. I'm not as eloquent with words as you."

He chuckled. "I already know how you feel, Aerie. You were quite verbose at the Battle. I only felt that I needed to reciprocate, even if it is a few years late."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "You didn't know your own feelings then."

His warm breath cascaded over her as he said softly, "I have always loved you. I just wasn't able to admit it to myself."

She sighed happily. "Loving you was possibly the easiest part of the job, Draco," she replied lightly, closing her eyes and leaning her head on his shoulder.

She felt his aura pulse at her words and smiled into his neck. "I love you," she whispered, just to feel that pulse again.

This pulse reverberated through her being and she gasped at the feeling as Draco pulled her away and stared into her eyes.

"Say it again," he demanded, his eyes a dark molten silver that made her blood sing.

She took his face in her hands and pulled her body up to his until they were connected at every point, making sure their eyes never left one another's. His arms tightened again around her back, keeping her pinned to his body.

She had his attention.

"I. Love. You," she said distinctly.

With a groan that she felt form deep in his chest, he lifted her bodily up and crashed their lips together.


	18. Epilogue

Epilogue

Dear Reader

_For everyone during the Second Great Wizarding War, times brought hardship. For my grandparents, it would seem that they were given the worse of the lot. I apologize to you, dear Reader, if the struggles of my family were too much to handle. But as with every story, good always wins and a time comes when the sun shines again. I chose to end the story here because the rest, as they say, is history._

_Astoria Greengrass found her way into the world and into her family after the trial. She would say that she and her family never saw eye to eye and thus did not see much of each other in the many years following. As for the parents who raised her, she reconnected the family that was estranged and rebuilt her relationship with them, as their niece. She forced the Greengrass pride aside and stitched the family together again._

_Grandpapa went back to St. Mungo's and developed his skill for potions in aiding the ailing at the hospital. Grandmama went to work for the Ministry as the Runic Expert for the Aurors, dealing specifically in ancient protective spells._

_A year after my grandfather's trial, the two of them were married on the South lawn, surrounded by friends, family, and Ministry officials, bringing the darkness of the Malfoy name to an end. She was known to her family as Astoria. She was Aerie to those who _knew_ her. Their life from then on was bliss._

_My father, Scorpius "Corus" Hyperion Malfoy, was born in 2006. _

_You may ask, what happened to Dah'lia? Well, I will tell that she was surprisingly involved in our lives. But that is a story for another time._

_I beg of you now, Readers, to leave with this. My family's redemption was not an easy task, nor was it the sole aim. My grandmother saved the soul of a young lost man at a pivotal moment and forever changed the fate of history. They didn't want this story told, but their legacy lives on. I thank you for being a part. For finding the love, the anger, the horror, and the joy in the lives of those just like you thrown into extraordinary circumstances._

_ Vela Aeridia Venatici (nee Malfoy)_

_ 2 May 2198 _

_ In honor of the two hundredth anniversary of the Second Great Wizarding War_


End file.
